The Beauty of Morning Light
by Wicked Raygun
Summary: With his grief still eating away at him, Xander must find it in his heart to help someone. Spin-off of "Nothing Short of Divine Intervention."
1. Prologue

TITLE: "The Beauty of Morning Light"  
  
AUTHOR: Wicked Raygun  
  
RATING: Just to be safe I'm gonna say an R. But it's no worse then the other two.  
  
SPOILERS: Up to season 5 episode "The Gift" Also it's two predecessors.  
  
DISTRIBUTION: This story and the rest of its parts can be found at fanfiction.net or at least it could be if they weren't suffering from the plague. As for anybody else…No problem. Just let me know where it goes so I can stop by and say "Hello."  
  
DISCLAIMOR: I refuse to believe that anyone here would be unbalanced enough to think I own this stuff in any way. After all, BX'ers are the only logical group of shippers out there. But… to anyone out there who does own a piece of the Buffster and/or her friends and enemies, I mean you no harm. I'm just borrowing your toys for a while to put on a little puppet show. I promise to bring them back in near-mint condition. Even Spike.  
  
FEEDBACK: Everyone needs a little love. It makes the world go around and writers post faster.  
  
DEDICATION: To all of the kind souls who have been kind enough to send me feed back, especially Banquo, and Danii (a.k.a DeBrabant). Oh and Danii, I did what you recommended and took my muses or in my case demons to dinner. A great time was had by all, but I'm afraid that poor fellow at the Sizzler will never walk the same again. I would also like to thank Lori Bush who has been extremely supportive about my writing. I have to borrow a line from Xander and say, "You're my hero." I hope one day I'll be half the writer you are. A special mention to Jai L. The first BX story I ever read was "…But Not Forgotten" by you. It hooked me into BX forever after that. You deserve any and all thanks or blame for me writing today. Also, thanks for not pulling a Rayden and striking me with Lightning bolts. To the great and powerful Oz(mandayus). I told you before that you're work inspires me. I meant it. Michael. Buddy I have simply given up on trying to review everything you post. It just keeps coming… Thanks for that. Lots of non-gay type love (Not that there's anything wrong with that) goes out to Silent Bob R, who really made me feel like I have a place here when he included me in his crazy, insane BX'er fics. He also said that I could have Faith in the next story so I am very, VERY happy.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a sequel to "Nothing Short of Divine Intervention" which in turn is a sequel to "To Live is the greatest Pain" So please read them if you haven't done so already so you won't be lost. This will be a chaptered story because I have decided on an even bigger canvas. I will be switching between Third and First person views. Whenever it's in First Person you are seeing the whedonverse through the wonderful new technology known as XanderVision (Patent Pending). Also please take note that I do not write. My demons do and I will not be held responsible. You have been warned.  
  
  
  
*******  
Prologue  
*******  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
This sucks to all kinds of hell.  
  
  
My fist connects to the punching bag again as I keep alternating my flow of the same Left-right-left combination. Always the same order just spaced randomly. It feels symbolic in a way.  
  
  
The order of life doesn't change, just the rhythm at which it flows. Sometimes it's fast and furious others it's merely a steady pace.  
  
Boxing analogies… Man I need therapy.  
  
  
This has got to be the one thing that really feels like it helps. Well the one thing I can do on my own, anyway.  
  
  
Talking with my friends helps to a point, but I can't have them around me 24-7. I get fidgety if I'm by myself and I have to do something. Thus enter Mr. Punching Bag. He and I have a very simple relationship. I hit him and he doesn't hit back.  
  
  
We've become good friends.  
  
  
The pain hasn't really stopped so much as changed. I can get through an entire day now without falling to my knees and crying for hours on end. I've returned to work and am performing at my normal level of competence.  
  
  
But that's something that happens during the day when I can keep myself busy.  
  
  
Night time is the true bitch. I have no escape for my misery there. All the pain and loneliness haunts me in the still silence before I can go to sleep. I just lie there half hoping for and half dreading for my body to slip into unconsciousness.  
  
  
It's at that time when my mind seems to enjoy torturing me with fantasies where Anya's still alive. I wake up damn near every morning reaching next to me to see if she's there. When I don't find her I get the chance to rediscover that she's gone and she's not coming back.  
  
  
Oh yeah… My life sucks.  
  
  
Concentrate on the rhythm. Concentrate on the rhythm.  
  
  
Left. Good.  
  
  
Right. That's it.  
  
  
Left. Alright change the pace. Rapid succession, now.  
  
  
Left. Right. Left. Again.  
  
  
Left. Right. Left.  
  
  
"You're dropping your shoulder."  
  
  
"What?" I stop hitting the bag and turn my head to see Giles wiping his glasses and staring at me with a slight smirk. How long has he been there?  
  
  
"When you come in for the second left jab you drop your shoulder. Try to keep it up or else you'll lose something in the momentum, not to mention the fact that you're showing you're going for that punch too early."  
  
  
I smile a little as I catch my breath. "It's not like I'm fighting anyone here. I'm just letting out a little pent-up energy."  
  
  
His smile lessons a little as he comes closer and places his hand on the very shoulder he warned me about. "I miss her too."  
  
  
I nod. I'm truly grateful for his help. A week ago I was dusting the gym because I really wanted something to do. As I came to the punching bag I decided to let out a small punch just for the general childishness of it. Like hitting that wall after Joyce died. I loved the release and it was definitely more forgiving on my fist then the drywall in Willow's dorm room.  
  
  
Before I knew it, I was wailing on it. It reminded me of what I had done to that weird Doc demon guy. It felt so good to let everything out. Since I didn't have anyone or anything to blame, I chose to blame Mr. Punching Bag. Giles found me that day crying and my fists bleeding. Since then he's been letting me do this to keep my sanity.  
  
  
Although he's since shown me the wonderful virtues of gloves.  
  
  
"Giles I can't thank you enough for letting me do this. Sometimes I just need to let it all out. Holding things in has gotten me into a lot of trouble before. I need this."  
  
  
"Xander, there's no need to thank me. We all have to find our own way to cope with loss. And this loss cost you your innocence so I understand the need to hit something once in a while." His small smile shows only a little of the guilt he's feeling.  
  
  
After we buried Anya, Giles told me how he wished that I wasn't the one who had to kill Ben. He thought that it should have been him. It was, by his reasoning, part and parcel of the vow he made to protect this "Sorry world" as he put it.  
  
  
Sometimes life doesn't flow the way you want it to. I'm living proof of that.  
  
  
"It hurts Giles. But I'll live."  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
The woman known as Susanna was terrified. She hated feeling like some animal's prey but that was exactly what she was. But the fear wasn't about her own safety so much as for that of the 15 pound little life sleeping in the baby seat next to her.  
  
  
Her child would live through this she vowed. No matter what happened to her that little girl would survive.  
  
  
The object of her vow began stirring from her sleep. Blinking a few times, it began to cry. Loudly too.  
  
  
"Shuuu… Come on, be quiet baby. Mommy's here." Susanna's right hand moved to her little girl and began rubbing her tummy while her other hand stayed on the wheel of her car. Her baby responded by quieting down a little and making adorable cooing sounds that Susanna thought absolutely priceless.  
  
  
Even in these moments of terror she still enjoyed being with her daughter.  
  
  
She continued talking out loud although it was more for her own benefit then her daughter's. "Mommy's going to take you someplace where those bad man won't hurt you like they did with Daddy. But first we have to go somewhere and get some money because Mommy's running out." She looked at her disheveled visage in the mirror and commented dryly, "And probably a shower because Mommy feels like the Swamp Thing."  
  
  
She was still a long way from Mexico which is where she planned on going for now. But without Gas or money she was pretty much screwed.  
  
  
The sign up ahead said "Sunny Dale 5 Miles Ahead." Well at least it sounded like a cheerful place. She didn't have much Gas and she was going to need the little she had to do the next part of her plan.  
  
  
She turned off of the road and went straight into the desert. Making sure that she went directly east. She used the onboard compass to do that. After she had driven roughly four miles into the dessert she decided to stop the car.  
  
  
She was essentially in the middle of nowhere. Once she was convinced of that idea she stepped out, took her cooing daughter and prepared to torch the hell out of her car.  
  
  
Using an old bed sheet she got from a motel she made a rope, soaked it in the spare gasoline that was kept in the trunk and led it into her gas tank. After placing her child a good distance from the car she returned to it and lit the bed sheet. She then proceeded to run as fast as her legs could carry her.  
  
  
She made it to her baby just as the car exploded. She threw herself on top of her and hoped that no shrapnel would land anywhere near them.  
  
  
She was lucky that night.  
  
  
After roughly 45 minutes she made it back to the highway. The second compass on her watch helping her out this time. She wiped the sweat from her brow and stared at the sign.  
  
  
"Sunny Dale here we come. Ain't that right baby?" The bundle in her arms stared at something on the highway not looking particularly interested at what was occurring.  
  
  
She heaved the weight of her daughter on her hip and began walking down the road just as the morning's rays began to peak over the horizon.  
  
  
A new morning. A new start.  
  
  
  
******To*Be*Continued******  



	2. I Hate This Place!

Feedback would be greatly appreciated.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Xander stretched out the kinks in his system. Buffy's couch was definitely comfortable but that still didn't make it the greatest place to stay every night.  
  
  
Placing his two hands at the small of his back right above the hips, he leaned back and a gentle popping noise filled the room, alleviating some of the pressure on his spine and producing a pleasured grunt to escape his lips.  
  
  
After finishing his stretches and doing a few push-ups he went upstairs to the bathroom. Staying in a house with two young women had taught him to always get to the bathroom first. If only to avoid the sibling bickering and grumpiness. Especially from Buffy.  
  
  
She just wasn't a morning person.  
  
  
Looking in the vanity mirror he winced as he took in his own visage. "Howya doing Harris? Still with the nightmares I see," he told himself after admiring the extremely large bags under his eyes. Turning on the water he put in his hands under the facet and cupped them to grab some of it. Washing his face felt like washing his soul. As if he could wipe away the guilt and misery he felt by simply cleaning his face. He knew it wasn't that simple. Still the cleanliness allowed an illusion of such, so it made him feel better.  
  
  
Denial can be an amazing thing.  
  
  
After washing up he put on some clothes and prepared to go to his apartment. Although he had been there nearly everyday since losing Anya he simply couldn't bring himself to stay overnight there. He and Anya weren't exactly living together but he had bought it for her.  
  
  
Staying overnight would bring him way too many memories.  
  
  
Thankfully, a duo of mourning Summers women was kind enough to take him in. In fact they were more then happy to take him in. They both felt extremely guilty themselves for Anya dying. Buffy because she was the Slayer and Dawn because she was the Key.  
  
  
Between the three of them they had enough guilt, regret and despair to fill a stadium. His days had been spent telling them both how he didn't blame either one of them.  
  
  
He was distracted from putting a fresh shirt on by a yawn. His head turned to see the eldest of the Summers Sisters walking around in an overly long tee-shirt.  
  
  
"Good Morning, Buffster." His head turned to the clock in the VCR. It was definitely way too early for Buffy to be awake. Especially on a Saturday.  
  
  
With her mouth still slightly opened, Buffy returned the greeting.  
  
  
"Why you up so early?" he asked.  
  
  
"What? Can't a girl wake up at a time before Noon?"  
  
  
Smiling he answered her. "It's 8:30. It's Summer. And you're Buffy. You waking up at this hour would involve an Apocalypse."  
  
  
Giving him "the look" Buffy folded her arms defensively and spoke to him. "I wanted to see if I could find a job today, okay."  
  
  
"You have a job. You know, Magic Box. Giles. Pays six dollars an hour."  
  
  
"Well it's the six dollars that bother me. I want to see if I can get a job that pays a little more then that." She began filling the coffee container with water. "I still have a mortgage to pay."  
  
  
Xander's face grew serious. "Oh my God I hadn't even thought of that. I just sorta assumed your mom owned this place."  
  
  
"Yeah, me too. But the Bank had other ideas. Apparently they frown on giving stuff away. Bright side, though. They're willing to lower the mortgage rate since I'm so young. But it's still a little more then I can afford working at the Magic Box." She placed some grounds into the coffee machine and switched it on.  
  
  
Xander suddenly felt like the biggest mooch in the world. He had an apartment that he could easily afford yet chose not to live in and then here was Buffy offering him a place to stay even though she couldn't afford it herself.  
  
  
"Geez Buff. I had no idea."  
  
  
"Don't worry about it."  
  
  
"Does Dawn know?"  
  
  
She looked down to the floor and lowered her voice. "I uhh, didn't want to worry her. I figured I could be all Covert Girl and get this done without her finding out."  
  
  
"She'll resent that you know. You should tell her. Even if she can't do anything she has every right to be as worried as you do. Remember how much she hated you keeping the "key" thing a secret."  
  
  
"Hey I had my reasons," Buffy said defensively.  
  
  
"That's true. But she still took it badly. The last thing you wanna do right now is risk the trust you've been earning back from her."  
  
  
Buffy couldn't help but think he might be right. Maybe she should tell her. "Xander I… I don't know."  
  
  
"Well I think I do. You're her sister not her Mom. You should tell her these things."  
  
  
Buffy leaned her back against the kitchen counter debating to herself whether or not she should tell Dawn about the mortgage. She had to agree that Xander had some really good points. Looking at Xander she came to a conclusion.  
  
  
"You know… You're right."  
  
  
Xander gave Buffy a smile of encouragement. "Good. Tell you what. You wake up Dawn and fill her in while I go to my apartment and get a shower. When I come back I'll personally take you to the unemployment office. But I gotta say that the pickings are pretty slim for someone with only a high school diploma." His smile helped her realize that she had made the right choice.  
  
  
"Thanks Xand-Man."  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
As I get into my car I can't help but feel that I have to do something to help Buffy. Before I lost Anya, I promised Buffy that whatever she did she would have my support. That's a promise I fully intend to keep.  
  
  
I just never imagined that the support would be financial.  
  
  
Well I guess I could get rid of my apartment and move in somewhere else. Which is something I've been thinking of doing anyway. I could move into a smaller apartment or even my parents again.  
  
  
On second thought, I'd rather slam my manhood in a sliding glass door repeatedly then go back with my folks. Those people are just scary.  
  
  
Okay, so new apartment it is. Preferably something just above hole-in-the-wall status. I'll grab a newspaper after I shower and pour through the classifieds. Hopefully something will come up.  
  
  
Two important people in my life need help. I fully plan on giving it to them.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Dawn awoke to the sound of a gentle knocking on her door. Mumbling something that would have made her mother punish her for a week she turned to the clock next to her bed.  
  
  
After seeing the time she cursed again. There was no way she was going to wake up at this ungodly hour. "Go away! Dawn go sleepy now!" she huffed loudly into her pillow.  
  
  
"Dawn, wake up or you'll miss seeing Xander naked." Her eyes flung open immediately. She had to be kidding. Xander wouldn't really be naked in her house? Would he? No, he wouldn't. And there was no way Buffy would tell her that, even if he was. But could she take that chance?  
  
  
No. No she couldn't.  
  
  
She bolted to the door and flung it open to find her sister smirking. "It was a trick!" she mentally screamed at herself.  
  
  
Dawn quickly flung the door in her sister's face. "Very mature, Buffy."  
  
  
It was opened a second later by her very amused older sister. "Good morning to you too, Dawn," she said sarcastically.  
  
  
"I never should have admitted to you I had a crush on Xander. You keep using it against me."  
  
  
Buffy laughed and then asked her sister, "I thought you were over your crush."  
  
  
"Well I'm not writing 'Mrs. Dawn Harris' in my notebook anymore, but that doesn't mean I still don't think he's a hottie."  
  
  
Buffy's face grew an overly theatric look of disgust. "Do me a favor Dawn. Never refer to Xander as a hottie in my presence again. The imagery is just disturbing."  
  
  
"You're just mad you missed your chance. As soon as he's over Anya I'm going to be eighteen so watch it, Slayer. You just may be talking about my future beau." The two sisters started laughing. It had taken them a long time to get back to this. The bantering that hinted at their real feelings for each other. All the drama and tragedy they had been constantly bombarded with, had left them no choice but to rebuild slowly.  
  
  
Xander had been right. Buffy wouldn't want to risk this for any type of "protecting" that would have been resented anyway. This was just far too precious.  
  
  
Buffy put on her best 'trying-to-act-like-mom' face. "Dawn. We have a problem that you should know about." Dawn's smiling stops and she makes herself appear as serious as possible.  
  
  
She's seen that look on her sister before.  
  
  
Buffy took a long composing breath. "When Mom died she hadn't finished paying the mortgage on the house. I'm afraid we still owe the bank some money." Dawn looked absolutely shocked. "The bank is willing to lower the mortgage rate but it's still a little more then I can afford just yet, so I'm going to get a better paying job" Buffy smiled weakly, hoping her sister wouldn't simply collapse from mental overload.  
  
  
Dawn didn't collapse; but she did, however, visually slump. "Out of everything that I was worried could happen, I hadn't even factored in that we still had to pay for this place."  
  
  
"I'm afraid so."  
  
  
"Could Dad maybe chip in."  
  
  
"Maybe. If I could get a hold of him. Remember, Dad's last known whereabouts included Spain and Italy. He still doesn't know about Mom. But we're still getting the alimony checks so, that'll help."  
  
  
Dawn interlaced her fingers, which was an indication that she was thinking. "What if Giles gave you a raise."  
  
  
Well there was an idea. But still… "No. I mean I just started working there to fill in for Anya since she… You know." It was still a hard subject to talk about for either one of them. "I just don't think it would be right. I mean… I'm nowhere near as good as she was with the shop. Why should I make more money then her."  
  
  
"I see what you mean. It does seem wrong when you put it like that… Okay so that's out." She gets an excited look in her face. "Ohh, ohh, I could work at the shop. I could get one of those guardian permission work slips and work after school. I mean I go there everyday anyway. I might as well get paid."  
  
  
The look in Buffy's face clearly tells Dawn that her idea is going to be vetoed. "Your priority is school. You couldn't focus if you were working at the shop."  
  
  
Not wanting to give up on her idea yet, Dawn continues. "No listen, I could do my work at the shop. I mean it doesn't get busy till after school anyway. Which is when I'd have to work. And seeing your point," she admitted defeatedly. "Okay. I'm out of ideas, now."  
  
  
"It's okay Dawn. I wasn't expecting you to solve our problems, I just wanted you to know."  
  
  
Dawn's eyes open wide. The word "Eureka" is clearly plastered in her face. "What if we charged Xander rent?"  
  
  
"What?"  
  
  
"Xander could move in. He's still too hurt to go back to his apartment anyway. So we move him in here and get him to contribute to the mortgage."  
  
  
"Dawn… Xander's a grown up… I cannot believe I just said that… He's not going to want to live with us for that long. This is strictly a temporary thing till he feels ready to move on. And besides, I'd feel horrible charging him rent."  
  
  
"You're just going to toss out all of my ideas aren't you."  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Three minutes. I've been staring at the door to my apartment for three minutes.  
  
  
Every time I come back here I hesitate to go inside. The first time I waited half an hour. Thirty minutes of just staring at the door to the apartment that had been a symbol of my salvation.  
  
  
When I moved in, it was at a time when I couldn't had been happier. I had a beautiful woman, who I thought the world of, practically begging to be a part of my life. I had just recently discovered that even at my worst I'm not half the loser that I sometimes let other people make me think I am. My job had turned into an actual career. And I was finally leaving behind the pain and abuse I wallowed in for nineteen years behind me for good.  
  
  
Unfortunately, the higher up you go the more painful the fall when you come crashing down.  
  
  
And boy did I come crashing down.  
  
  
Okay I shouldn't dwell. I need to open this door and go inside to get changed. I've done this before. The hardest was the first time. That's behind me. I can get this done.  
  
  
My breath gets caught in my throat as I reach for the doorknob. Geez, You'd think I was expecting my arm to melt off the second I touch this thing!  
  
  
Breathe, Dammit!  
  
  
Now!  
  
  
My keys fall into the keyhole with the same familiarity I always recognize when I open the door. Amazing how I can actually feel the slots of the ridges of my key fit into the tumblers. I turn my keys and push my hand against the door and it squeaks the way it always does when it's opened.  
  
  
Nothing unusual. I can do this again.  
  
  
I step inside and feel the oppression in the air. It makes me want to crawl on my hands and knees back to that damn basement. I know bad feelings can't hurt me physically, but if they could I would have died every time I walked in here. I hate coming here that much.  
  
  
I strip my clothes the second I close the door. I don't plan on staying here any longer then I have to. I jump into the shower and immediately turn it on. Normally I would have let it get warm before letting the spray hit me but now the thought of cold water doesn't bother me.  
  
  
A little physical discomfort would be worth it if I could get out of this place faster.  
  
  
I finish my shower in record time. Lathering. Shampooing. Basically doing all the things I would do anyway just a whole lot faster. I don't enjoy showers the way I used to.  
  
  
"I hate this place!" There I said it. Out loud, too.  
  
  
After getting some clothes together, I bolt for the door as fast as I can.  
  
  
I lock the door and run back to my car.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
"Dawn, I said 'No!' We are not charging Xander rent."  
  
  
"Why not."  
  
  
"Because it's wrong. We owe him. How could we charge someone for grieving."  
  
  
"The funeral parlor did. Not to mention the people at the Graveyard. Besides I don't want to charge him for grieving… just have him pitch in. You know he would if we asked him."  
  
  
"That's not the point. Mom could afford this place, so can I," Buffy said while folding her arms.  
  
  
"So that's it. Your pride. You just don't want to ask anyone for help." The look on Dawn's face made Buffy cringe because she was dead on. She didn't want to ask for help. "Buffy… Mom would want you to get help if you needed it. You know that."  
  
  
Buffy's face drops toward the floor. "I know. It's just… I don't feel like we should ask Xander of all people for help. He just suddenly had the promise of the normal life I've always dreamed of, taken away from him. And I can't help but feel responsible for it. If I hadn't ever allowed him to get involved with the slaying then…"  
  
  
"Then he would have died a long time ago. Buffy even if there was no Slayer and he knew about Vampires and Demons, he'd still be out there making a difference. That's the kind of guy he is."  
  
  
Buffy smiled. "That does sound like Xander."  
  
  
"See? I don't pick my obses- I mean crushes lightly."  
  
  
A huge smirk grew on Buffy's face as she said, "Do I even have to mention Spike?"  
  
  
"That is SO below the belt!"  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Xander parked his car in front of the no-name convenience store that sat next to the grungy, beaten-up Sunny Dale Motel. He'd hoped to be able to grab his newspaper and get out in record time, but as he was stepping out of his car he heard a commotion coming from the check-in of the motel. The commotion was further worsened by a baby crying. Feeling curious he decided to get a little closer to see what was going on.  
  
  
From his vantage point, outside of the motel, he saw the clerk and a fairly attractive woman with dark hair holding a crying baby in her arms. The ensuing conversation was loud and clear.  
  
  
"Please Mr. Griswold, just give me a few more days. I'll have time to get a job and then I'll pay you slowly."  
  
  
"Miss… I simply don't care. In this town, you learn to never trust anyone. So tell me why I should think you're an exception." Xander wanted very badly to punch his lights out.  
  
  
"Please!" Her voice was so desperate. So needing. "If not for me then for my baby," she pleaded. "We have nowhere else to go." Mr. Griswold did not look impressed when he pointed his finger towards the door.  
  
  
Wanting to help but figuring it to be none of his business he decided to just leave. He went into the convenience store, paid for his newspaper and began walking towards his car.  
  
  
That's when he heard the heard two distinctive voices doing something that broke his heart. It was a baby and a grown woman. And they were both crying.  
  
  
As he walked to the alley next to the convenience store he saw them huddled next to the wall.  
  
  
"Umm… Excuse me Miss?"  
  
  
  
  
  
******To*Be*Continued******  
  
Hello ladies and germs that includes Chapter 1. The actual chapter 1 was more of a prologue so that's why it was so short. I had originally planned on making this part longer but my demons told me to post and I've learned to just do what they say when the say it. There's less bleeding that way. Any and all feedback will not only be appreciated but treated like golden treasure. I hope to have the next part soon and I must say that the first few parts will be mostly character building because I'm a patient guy… I just hope that you as my audience can forgive me that and trust me the dark place that Xander fell into is so going to be a big part of this story.  
  
Thank you  



	3. Crying In An Alleyway

TITLE: "The Beauty of Morning Light- 2/?"  
  
AUTHOR: Wicked Raygun  
  
E-MAIL: wicked_raygun@hotmail.com  
  
RATING: Just to be safe I'm gonna say an R. But it's no worse then the other two.  
  
SPOILERS: Up to season 5 episode "The Gift" Also it's two predecessors.  
  
DISTRIBUTION: This story and the rest of its parts can be found at fanfiction.net or at least it could be if they weren't suffering from the plague. As for anybody else…No problem. Just let me know where it goes so I can stop by and say "Hello."  
  
DISCLAIMOR: I refuse to believe that anyone here would be unbalanced enough to think I own this stuff in any way. But… to anyone out there who does own a piece of the Buffster and/or her friends and enemies, I mean you no harm. I'm just borrowing your toys for a while to put on a little puppet show. I promise to bring them back in near-mint condition. Even Spike.  
  
FEEDBACK: Everyone needs a little love. It makes the world go around and writers post faster.  
  
DEDICATION: To all of the kind souls who have been kind enough to send me feed back, especially Banquo, and Danii (a.k.a DeBrabant). Oh and Danii, I did what you recommended and took my muses or in my case demons to dinner. A great time was had by all, but I'm afraid that poor fellow at the Sizzler will never walk the same again. I would also like to thank Lori Bush who has been extremely supportive about my writing. I have to borrow a line from Xander and say, "You're my hero." I hope one day I'll be half the writer you are. A special mention to Jai L. The first BX story I ever read was "…But Not Forgotten" by you. It hooked me into BX forever after that. You deserve any and all thanks or blame for me writing today. Also, thanks for not pulling a Rayden and striking me with Lightning bolts. To the great and powerful Oz(mandayus). I told you before that you're work inspires me. I meant it. Michael. Buddy I have simply given up on trying to review everything you post. It just keeps coming… Thanks for that. Lots of non-gay type love (Not that there's anything wrong with that) goes out to Silent Bob R, who really made me feel like I have a place here when he included me in his crazy, insane BX'er fics. He also said that I could have Faith in the next story so I am very, VERY happy.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a sequel to "Nothing Short of Divine Intervention" which in turn is a sequel to "To Live is the greatest Pain" So please read them if you haven't done so already so you won't be lost. This will be a chaptered story because I have decided on an even bigger canvas. I will be switching between Third and First person views. Whenever it's in First Person you are seeing the whedonverse through the wonderful new technology known as XanderVision (Patent Pending). Also please take note that I do not write. My demons do and I will not be held responsible. You have been warned.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
"Umm… Excuse me Miss?"  
  
  
"Huh?" The woman from the motel looked up to see a man with dark hair, jeans and a plain green tee shirt staring at her. She felt embarrassed and immediately wiped away the tears from her eyes. She had always been a strong woman and she didn't need some stranger seeing her like this, at her most vulnerable.  
  
  
"I said, 'Excuse me.' I heard you crying in the alleyway and wanted to see if you were alright." He paused. "Are you?"  
  
  
"Oh yes, perfectly okay. What could possibly be wrong with a woman crying her eyes out in an alleyway of some stupid, red-neck, no-name town." Her tone of voice was harsh and venomous. But there was an unmistakable note of sadness and desperation that belied the tough front she tried to put up.  
  
  
Not feeling particularly forgiving about the crap life had been handing him in shovels lately, Xander simply shrugged his shoulders and went for some harsh sarcasm. "I don't know. Maybe you finally realized how pathetic you're life was and thought, 'Gee… Maybe crying in an alley would attract a mugger so I could finally end it.' Listen lady, I just thought that maybe you could use some help. You don't want it… Fine. I could really care less… just one less hassle for me to deal with anyway."  
  
  
The look of pain on her face made Xander regret what he said immediately. Not that he felt like apologizing.  
  
  
Her face scrunched up in anger. "I glad you find my misery so amusing. But if you don't mind I'd like to be left alone."  
  
  
"Fine! But if you don't mind me saying…"  
  
  
The woman interrupted him, and in a mocking tone said, "Actually, I sorta do."  
  
  
"Whatever." He turned around intent on leaving this ungrateful woman alone with her "misery" as she had put it. "But you should do something about your kid. He deserves better."  
  
  
"My baby's a girl, Moron!" she bit out angrily.  
  
  
"Yeah, yeah." He didn't even turn around again to reply. He simply left.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Figures. I try to help somebody and they want to be a bitch about it. My day is off to such a great start, huh?  
  
  
I open the door to my car, get in and start the engine, but just as I'm about to pull out of the parking and onto the road, I make a decision.  
  
  
If that lady doesn't want my help, fine. I have zero problems with leaving someone to lie in the hole of their own making… But, that little girl is going to die if her mother doesn't get any shelter. And I have one hell of a huge problem with that.  
  
  
Sometimes having a conscience can be a real pain in the ass.  
  
  
I put on the parking brake and get out of my car leaving the engine still running. I walk into the lobby of the motel intending to hurt that miserable Asshole, who tossed her out, very badly.  
  
  
He sees me and immediately puts on the fakest smile I've ever seen. This Puke makes Snyder look like a mildly good-looking guy. Which if you've seen Snyder is quite an accomplishment.  
  
  
And something tells me that his personality leaves something to be desired as well.  
  
  
"How may I help you sir?" he asks me in a voice that I swear sounded like it was hissing.  
  
  
If I wasn't so pissed I'm sure he'd be creeping me out by now.  
  
  
I can't help the smirk that crosses my face though I desperately fought it. Oh yeah, this guy could help me alright.  
  
  
"Yeah… You could tell me why there's a woman crying in your alleyway."  
  
  
He looked at me strangely. "Sir, I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."  
  
  
I could hear the annoyance in his voice along with something else I couldn't quite identify.  
  
  
"A woman," I started off slowly, "that you threw out of here, who has a baby, is crying in your alleyway," I asserted. "I want to know why."  
  
  
"Oh, Her." The words came out of his mouth as if they were poison. "She couldn't pay her room for tonight and had the audacity to ask if I could let her stay here for a few days, for free." My eyes narrowed liked the tips of daggers. "That ain't no way to run a business," he told me.  
  
  
"If I recall, she said that she'd pay you back after she got a job."  
  
  
"What's it to you that she stays anywhere?"  
  
  
Ohhh, man. I really want to knock this guys teeth in. Hell… My hand is in a fist and I don't even remember consciously making it that way. I step closer to the little weasel in a way that I hoped screamed, "Don't. Fuck. With. Me."  
  
  
Apparently he got the point because he backed up a few steps and his hands moved upward as if he wanted to protect himself from me.  
  
  
Fear. That's what I sensed from his voice earlier.  
  
  
"Just consider me a concerned citizen," I told him. "I happen to know that this town can be very dangerous at night and people need a place to be." He looked about to protest so I grabbed him and slammed him against the wall.  
  
  
That felt pretty good, actually.  
  
  
His eyes were wide open in shock. I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my lips. The look on his face was hilarious. "Here's what you're going to do." My eyes pierce his with what I hope is a pretty good impression of the 'Buffy Death Glare of Doom.' I think I nailed it because he starts to shake. He better not pee his pants or so help me… "You're going to go out into your alleyway, apologize to the nice lady for acting so crude and let her stay here until she can pay you back."  
  
  
I try my best not to smile or laugh when I say this and this time I manage to succeed.  
  
  
He doesn't say anything but I can see the question stamped clearly on his face. I sigh and say, "Just in case she does something underhanded like try to make a break for it. I'll come back in a week and fully pay you what she owes you… Now you're going to do what I asked you, or… Or you'll get to see just how dangerous this town can be."  
  
  
My grip on his shirt tightens without me thinking about it. His mouth opens and closes a few times like a fish. I wait a few seconds before he finally says, "I'll… I'll… Call the cops."  
  
  
"I don't see why. If you do what I say, then you get paid in full no matter what. But if you choose to do something stupid like call the police, I promise they won't get to you before I do." I lift his chin up with my right hand and say, "Now why don't you go tell the nice lady about your 'sudden change of heart'."  
  
  
I let him go. He blinks twice and then walks to the alleyway.  
  
  
I follow right behind him. I want to make sure this jerk is actually going through with it.  
  
  
I see him head into the alley and I decide not to follow him any further. I was still ticked at that ladies attitude from earlier.  
  
  
After getting into my car I undo the parking brake and leave a screaming baby, an unpleasant woman and a scared-to-death Motel Owner in an alleyway to sort out the rest of their own problems.  
  
  
I got enough to deal with.  
  
  
I grab the cell phone that I always keep charging in the cigarette lighter and dialed Buffy's house. After a very robotic voice warned me of the amount of minutes I had left and a few rings the phone is picked up and I am greeted by the younger of the Summers Sisters.  
  
  
"Hey Dawn, it's Xander. I'm going to be a little late in coming back to see you guys. I got an errand to run."  
  
  
After hearing her "Okay" I promise to take them out to breakfast and click a button on my cell phone to hang it up.  
  
  
Me and Mr. Punching Bag need some alone time.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
"Who was that?"  
  
  
"That was Xander he said he had an errand to run so he'll be late picking us up…Oh, and he'll be buying breakfast," replied Dawn.  
  
  
"Aww… food good. Slayer like food. Slayer like free food more," Buffy joked in her Cave Slayer voice.  
  
  
"Slayer sound stupid when talk in third person. And…" That was all she got out before a pillow hit her from across the room.  
  
  
"Don't make Cave Slayer angry."  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
I pull into the parking lot of the Magic Box and get out of my car in a hurry. As I come inside I'm greeted by Giles.  
  
  
I grunt a 'hello' and immediately head to the gym in the back. He doesn't say anything else because he knows this is part of my routine.  
  
  
Something upsets me and I have a long discussion with Mr. Punching Bag.  
  
  
Today I plan on making this discussion rather short but I am SO going to step up the pressure today. I can just feel it in my bones.  
  
  
I remove my shirt because I don't want to sweat it up so soon after having showered this morning. And then after putting on my boxing gloves, I get to it.  
  
  
I start beating that bag like a red-headed step child.  
  
  
You know I just realized how much I hate that expression. It implies that people should be beaten up because they're different.  
  
  
My anger at something so trivial manifests itself in the form of my right-cross.  
  
  
Once again I brought up every little injustice that had made me angry lately.  
  
  
Every time I wake up without Anya.  
  
  
Right jab.  
  
  
Every time I have a nightmare about her dying.  
  
  
Left jab.  
  
  
The sheer mental agony of entering my own apartment.  
  
  
Left jab. Right.  
  
  
The crisis with Buffy and Dawn that threatens to take away the home that had represented a new start for her mother when they moved here.  
  
  
Left hook. Right jab.  
  
  
The sad fact that Willow can barely stay in the same room with me without making an excuse to leave because she feels so uncomfortable.  
  
  
Right. Left. Right. Left hook.  
  
  
The look in her eyes that clearly tells me that she's afraid of me. Not "about" me, "of" me.  
  
  
Right jab. Left hook. Right cross.  
  
  
That ungrateful woman back at the Sunny Dale Motel.  
  
  
Right uppercut.  
  
  
The slime ball who tossed her out in the first place.  
  
  
Left jab. Right. Left. Left.  
  
  
The fact that a piece of me actually enjoyed scaring the bejeezus out of him.  
  
  
Right hook.  
  
  
Once again I was letting go. This was the true cleansing of my soul. Everything else doesn't make sense in my life. But this. My fists colliding into the hard bag over and over again. This makes sense.  
  
  
It's fast and unrelenting. I control the pace. I decide when it's over.  
  
  
For a few moments in time I am no longer Fate's Whipping boy: the one who is undeserving of being punished and yet pays for someone else's sins.  
  
  
I was not raised by mongrels: the callous, abusive, neglectful people who gave birth to me and then seemingly decided that I wasn't worth anything other then as an outlet for their own frustrations.  
  
  
I am not tied to a sacrificial stone: made to suffer for someone else's glory.  
  
  
I am none of those things unless I decide to be. For a few moments… I am the master of my own destiny.  
  
  
My fists collide over and over again and the grunts that escape me are of the feral variety.  
  
  
Then just as suddenly as I started I stopped. My breath comes in pants and I struggle to control my breathing the way Giles showed me. My head leans on the punching bag while I attempt to remove my boxing gloves. It's then I feel a hand on my shoulders.  
  
  
I turn and see Giles staring at me with love and understanding.  
  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks me.  
  
  
I nod and tell him, "Yes. But not right now. Tonight before Patrols I promise."  
  
  
He tentatively removed his hand from my shoulder and smiles. He understands that I still need time. Everything feels so new to me now.  
  
  
It's these quiet moments that I treasure.  
  
  
  
******To*Be*Continued******  
  
  
  
Thank You. The feedback has been greatly appreciated and as I said earlier I do treasure it.   
  
  
Ray Rivera, aka Wicked Raygun  



	4. Insurmountable Wall

Please send me feedback.  
  
  
~~~~~~  
  
  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
  
Xander nodded slightly and his eyes shift back down to the floor. "Yes. But not right now. Tonight before patrols, I promise."  
  
  
Giles withdrew his hand slowly and smiled what felt like his first genuine smile since Anya died. Xander said he wanted to talk. It wasn't much, but it was definitely a step in the right direction. Before, he had only talked about how Anya's death had affected him to Buffy and Dawn, but now, Xander said he would talk to him about everything personally.  
  
  
Xander still needed more time. There was no debating that, Giles knew. Still, he had come that much closer in getting back the young man that had long been the heart of their family.  
  
  
Progress, however small, had been made.  
  
  
"I look forward to that," said Giles.  
  
  
After cleaning himself off a bit, Xander turned to leave the store. He was going to talk to Giles about everything, he promised himself. Anya would want this. She would want Xander to reach out to his surrogate family. He took comfort in that thought.  
  
  
He was interrupted from his thoughts about an Anya smiling on him from up above by the jingling bell of the swinging door of the Magic Box. The shop wasn't officially opened for another hour, so he shouldn't have been too surprised by the entrance of a certain redheaded witch and her girlfriend.  
  
  
It still knocked the wind right out of him, though.  
  
  
"He-hey Willow." His voice sounded small even to himself. The tension between the two of them had been like some sort of scary, cold, insurmountable wall that neither had tried to get anywhere near let alone go over.  
  
  
"Hi, Xander." There was a trembling slip in her words which cut to Xander's very soul. Her hand reflexively moved into Tara's grasp seeking comfort and strength. It was trembling a little. A fact that did not go unnoticed by Xander.  
  
  
Doing his beast to mask his hurt by Willow's unconscious gesture, Xander decided to cut his losses and run. "I'll see you guys later. I have to go… do some…things," he stammered out unconvincingly. "Bye Willow… Tara." He nodded to each in turn and walked past the two of them.  
  
  
Xander wished with every fiber of his being that he hadn't heard the audible sigh of relief that escaped from Willow's mouth.  
  
  
Once inside of his car, Xander says to himself, "Well, that wasn't the least bit awkward."  
  
  
  
~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Susanna was completely confused. She couldn't understand why all of the sudden Mr. Griswold had decided to be nice to her and let her stay at the motel. Granted on the condition that she pay him back with twenty percent interest, but it still was a heck of a lot better then the alternative.  
  
  
The alternative being trying to cross the border with no money and no car. Not to mention the fact that the only Spanish she knew had been taught to her by the Taco Bell Chihuahua. But she had bought a book and she was learning a few phrases. Not much, but a start.  
  
  
Now if she could only find a job. Preferably one where they didn't ask any complex questions like, "Where are you from?" She thought about asking Mr. Griswold if she could work at the motel; but now that she was living here and owing him money, the idea had lost some of its beautiful simplicity.  
  
  
God she wished that Jerry could be here to help her. But that was impossible. She watched him die herself.  
  
  
Her daughter cooed from the makeshift crib she had put together by tying some string and making a wall with a blanket on a cushion chair. She had finally fallen back to sleep after staying up all night yelling her head off. Not that she blamed her. Susanna cried right along with her beautiful baby girl. She missed Jerry, she missed their tiny little apartment, and she missed school.  
  
  
She yawned. She needed to get a little rest and then she'd head off to find a job.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~  
  
  
  
"NOOO!"  
  
  
"Anna stay out of it."  
  
  
"But he'll kill you."  
  
  
"No he won't! I won't let him. You and the baby mean too much to me. Remember what I told you. Don't go to Canada. They'll expect that. Head south and get out of the country." He didn't feel the confidence in his own voice as he spoke but he needed to be strong. The pain in her eyes made Jerry wished he could hold her and kiss all the pain away. But he knew that if he gave into that desire he'd never be able to let go again. The baby needed him. Anna needed him.  
  
  
"I love you, Jer."  
  
  
Jerry nodded and grinned at her. "I love you, too." His mouth curved in that grin that always brought a smile to Anna's heart. "And I love, Melissa… I will find you, again. I promise."  
  
  
Anna watched as Jerry turned around to fight. He didn't take a step before something grabbed him. Something evil. Something pure evil.  
  
  
No. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She, Jerry and Melissa were supposed to live happily ever after. How could this world be so cruel?  
  
  
She didn't see the face of the monster who had his hands around her husbands neck. All she could concentrate on were the sickening sounds of Jerry struggling against his attacker and gulping for air that would never reach his lungs.  
  
  
Then Jerry's eyes turned to stare at her. His mouth moved and the words "Help me," could be made out even with the lack of sound coming from his lips.  
  
  
"I can't."  
  
  
  
~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Susanna woke up from her dream panting as if she had just been running. Frantic, she ran to Melissa and checked to see if she was okay. Once she saw that she was, she sighed in relief. She took in her surroundings somewhat glad to find the disorganized, barely hygienic hovel that consisted of her current personal residence.  
  
  
The dream wasn't exactly like the real memory. But it was close enough that it still hurt and frightened her. Nightmares of that horrible night were the bane of Susanna's existence.  
  
  
God she missed being called by Jerry's nickname for her. She missed it so much she hated even referring to herself as Susanna. It sounded so prissy and pretentious to her now. Anna, Jerry told her, sounded more dignified and that's exactly how she wanted to feel again. But unless by some miracle Jerry came back, delivered her from this hellish existence and allowed her the luxury of dignity, Susanna was what she would call herself till her dying day.  
  
  
When Jerry died, Anna died.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Xander parked his car in front of Buffy's house and mentally prepared himself for the soul-sucking chore of standing around a cramped office and telling your qualifications to a clerk who, honest to God, couldn't care less. Granted, for once, it wouldn't be him getting mentally drained at the glares these clerks would hand down as judgment for not having a college degree. But the experience was like reopening a wound and pouring salt allover it.  
  
  
Painful.  
  
  
He stepped out, killing his engines, and knocked on the door, waiting to be let in. After a few moments, the door was opened by a grinning little mass of brown hair. Dawn was dressed fairly casually with her standard jeans, top and hair, brushed long. Xander walked in and asked if her sister was ready for the hell of the Unemployment Office.  
  
  
Dawn smirked at Xander's exaggeration. "My sister has been to an actual hell. I'm sure she can manage the dreaded Unemployment Office." She added with a mocking, "Wooo-oooooo" and putting her hands up in mock fright..  
  
  
Completely un-phased by Dawn's remark and actions, Xander added, " You just remember that when I have to drag your butt down there, Missy."  
  
  
"It's just a job."  
  
  
"No… It's someone critiquing your life and deciding your worth to society. It has all the glamour and civility of a slave auction. Trust me, Dawnie, it sucks."  
  
  
"Uh-huh." She rolled her eyes.  
  
  
Deciding to ignore that last part, he asked her, "So is your sister ready, yet?"  
  
  
"I don't know. Lemme check. BUFFY, ARE YOU READY, YET!?!"  
  
  
Xander made a show of rubbing his ears as if they were in pain. "I coulda done that."  
  
  
  
~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Buffy stood before her mother's full-length mirror, taking in her appearance. Her hair was brushed and layered neatly around her face and she had on a yellow blouse with a navy blue jacket and matching skirt that came down to her knees. A pair of stockings and black pumps completed her outfit. It belonged to her mother; a fact which made her feel uncomfortable, but she needed them. She owned nothing that would allow her to look more like an adult. Somehow she didn't think that coming in wearing tight leather jeans and a halter top would impress anyone with her maturity.  
  
  
"God, why couldn't I own any grownup clothes?"  
  
  
The continuation of her thoughts on the subject was interrupted by her sister's shrieking voice. "BUFFY, ARE YOU READY, YET!?!  
  
  
"YEAH. JUST A SEC," she called back. Truthfully, she had been ready half an hour ago, but she had been fidgeting and feeling extremely nervous of about, not only her need to keep the house, but Dawn's reaction to her wearing her mother's clothes.  
  
  
It was now or never.  
  
  
She walked downstairs, whilst mentally preparing herself of her sister's remarks. Upon reaching the staircase, she held her breath for a second and then said, " Well… How do I look?"  
  
Xander and Dawn turned their heads to the top of the staircase and watched as Buffy stood there with her hands at her sides in a questioning manner; obviously, waiting for their approval.  
  
  
Dawn spoke first. "Isn't that Mom's?"  
  
  
Buffy nodded. So far her sister hadn't shrieked at her, which was definitely a good sign.  
  
  
"You look great. Mom'd be real proud." The genuine smile that lit her sister's face eased Buffy's racing-a-mile-a-minute heart.  
  
  
"You look very mature Buffy. Very impressive. You'll knock 'em dead… After breakfast though, because I'm starving."  
  
  
"Thanks guys."  
  
  
  
******To*Be*Continued******  
  
  
  
Thanks to everyone who has supported me thus far with their comments and feed back. Without it, I'd never had been driven to write even half of what I have. Every kind word of encouragement spurs me to write my next piece all the more quicker, so if you want the next chapter up soon. Yell it to me. Give me hell about it. Write me e-mails about my lack of quickness with the postage. It's all appreciated.  
  
  
My demons thank-you.  
  
  
Next up will be Giles confronting Xander. Willow explains her fear of Xander. A little more background for Anna and Melissa. And my favorite, the introduction of a -dum, dum, DUM-- plot.  
  
  
  
--You just listen to the old Pork Chop Express here now, and take his advice on a dark and stormy night. When the lightening 's crashing, and the thunder 's roaring, and the rain 's coming down in sheets thick as lead; remember, what old Jack Burton does when the Earth quakes, and the poison arrows fall from the sky, and the Pillars of Heaven shake… Yeah, Jack Burton just looks that big old Storm right, square in the eye and he says, "Give me your best shot, Pal…I can take it." -  
  
  
Kurt Russell as Jack Burton in "Big trouble in Little China"  



	5. Black and White

I thought I should take the time to Thank everyone who has sent me feedback so far. And here goes: (In no particular order)  
  
Jamiearn, DeBrabant aka Danii, Gee, Xanderluv, Eojt, Bolo, Inscriffany, Amelia, Britt, Kristen, Onion Girl, Chocoholic, StarGoddess Vicky, CaLeN, Titânia-dora, Zekkers, Drake Roberts, Mutant, Skelron, Lwbush aka Lori or Lorificus which is my new pet name for her, Banquo, Varthan, and VegaKeep.  
  
I honest to god had intended "To Live…" to be a one shot but your support has allowed me the opportunity to turn it into something bigger.  
  
  
Also to the folks at the Slayerfanfic posting board who helped me out with the typing question: (also in no particular order)  
  
Karma, Diana, Katharyn, Laura  
  
  
And without further ado. ;)  
  
  
  
~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Susanna had been standing in the Unemployment Office for the last half hour, searching the bulletin board for a job she had half a chance of getting. One by one, she carefully examined the sheets of paper and wrote down possible jobs on a blank portion of a piece of newspaper, while her mind kept repeating one phrase over and over again.  
  
  
Why couldn't tragedy have struck after she received her diploma?  
  
  
She wasn't completely helpless, though. She was a great typist. Averaging at about 100 words a minute, she could out type every woman in her typing class. Thank goodness, for chat rooms. Plus she had a working knowledge of most computer systems. Any computer that used Windows was pretty much mastered by her. She even knew a few things about those Linux operating systems. Spreadsheets, Presentations… heck, anything professional that could be done with a computer, she could not only do, but do quickly without sacrificing quality. She even knew a few business programs like Quicken, and most of the Corel stuff: A side effect of being a lonely computer geek as a kid.  
  
  
Just about any of the secretary jobs she had seen on the bulletin board she could do in her sleep, but skill wasn't the problem. The cooing bundle in her arms at the moment was. How could she explain that she had to be around her baby 24/7 without going into her past was a huge setback in getting work. If the job had a day care center, then that would be something. But even then she couldn't help the feeling that not only would her baby still not be safe, but that she would be putting the other children at risk.  
  
  
Unfortunately, that was a problem she had no way of solving. She would simply have to make as much money as she needed and then "get the hell outta dodge" as the saying goes. Hopefully, the fact that she had gone South instead of North would throw off the monster looking for her and her baby; at least, long enough for her to get out before anyone else could get hurt.  
  
  
Once she was finished here, she had decided that she would go to the smaller businesses and ask if they were hiring but hadn't placed anything on the bulletin boards yet. She had been fantasizing about forgiving, compassionate old ladies who would be more than willing to help a struggling mother by giving her a quiet, non-demanding job where she could keep her baby close to her. But she knew the chances of that happening were on par with her stumbling over a mountain of money that didn't belong to anybody. As proven by Mr. Griswold, the motel clerk, Sunny Dale was no Mayberry. Still, it was worth a shot.  
  
  
When you're desperate, nothing seems too far-fetched.  
  
  
Once she was sure she had checked and written down the names and numbers of every decent job offer in Sunny Dale, Susanna left to attempt her Andy Griffith inspired fantasy. For effect, she began whistling the theme song as she walked out.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Xander parked his car at the Wilkins Memorial Hall where the Unemployment Office along with many other government offices was held. He stepped out of his car just as his two passengers did the same. The low moaning coming from behind him was Dawn's. She was still reaping the after-effects of the International House of Pancakes breakfast. She bet Xander that she could out eat him. She lost; although, from the sound of her you wouldn't have known.  
  
  
Chuckling, Xander commented to Buffy, "I warned her. But would she listen? Noooooo." Buffy smiled for the first time since leaving the restaurant. She had been in a slight funk when the waitress kept calling her Ma'am. It wouldn't have been so bad, had Buffy hadn't recognized her as a Senior from her Sophomore year at Sunny Dale High and if she had called Xander Sir. Being isolated as the older woman by someone older then you wasn't exactly what she had in mind when she dressed in her Mother's clothes. Mature was one thing, old was another.  
  
  
Xander believed that the reason why Dawn had done something so childish as to challenge him to an eating contest was that she wanted to cheer her sister up. That being the case he was more then willing to comply. He also decided that he'd do something special for the Dawnster later.  
  
  
Or maybe he would just make pancakes later and watch her squirm.  
  
  
On their way into the building, Xander took the chewing gum he had been chomping on and stuck it on the bronze statue of Mayor Wilkins. At the smirking looks of his companions, Xander shrugged and told them, "What? After what Mayor McSnake did to us, the city should be thankful my only revenge is chewing gum. I've been fantasizing of pulling a Bart and hacking this thing's head off since they put it up last year."  
  
  
Buffy smiled again. "Aww, don't be so hard on yourself, Xander. At least we got to blow up the school."  
  
  
"Every teenager's fantasy."  
  
  
Dawn turned toward her sister. "Buffy? Can I blow up my school?"  
  
  
"Only after you've graduated."  
  
  
As they were entering the Unemployment Office, Xander could swear he had heard the theme song to "The Andy Griffith Show," but he shrugged it off. As mentally unstable as he had been feeling it was a wonder he didn't have the theme from "Psycho" blasting in his ears, as his own private surround sound.  
  
  
The Unemployment Office was normally very busy on Saturdays, and today was no exception. People mostly moved about checking the various bulletin boards advertising work around Sunnydale and other places in the greater area of California. All of the local stuff, was off to a very familiar corner to Xander. He didn't even want to guess the amount of times he had been there, looking for a job he knew would fire him anyway. Of course, many times he at least had Anya to keep him company and spout what she would consider words of inspiration; which, usually, boiled down to her stating in a very loud voice that someone as skilled as him in bed had to have other more socially applicable skills; although, she never used those particular words. The looks of the faces of the people around him would forever be ingrained in his memory. As embarrassing as it was, he looked at those times fondly.  
  
  
Xander allowed himself a sad smile. He really missed how she could make him feel better no matter what else was going wrong in his life. Little things like that are worth their weight in gold.  
  
  
Xander and Dawn began looking through the bulletin boards, for lack of anything better to do, while Buffy walked up to the teller at the far side of the lobby. Before she even could say anything polite to her, the teller said in a bored voice, "Do you have an appointment?"  
  
  
Buffy's face clearly showed the slight panic she was feeling. "Umm… Appointment?…Yeah. A-About that. See…"  
  
  
Before Buffy could further become a babbling, stuttering mess, Xander interrupted. "Buffy Summers. One PM. With a Misses Greene, I believe."  
  
  
Buffy looked to him with a question in her eyes. Xander merely shrugged, took out his cell phone and pointed to it. She nodded, although, none too gracefully; her momentary panic subsiding.  
  
  
A few clicks of the teller's terminal and she confirmed what Xander had said. She then proceeded to tell Buffy to please take a seat and wait for her to call her name. As Buffy did just that, she poked Xander in the ribs and thanked him.  
  
  
"Don't worry about it. I know the drill around here. Me and Anya went through it a lot." His nostalgia makes itself visible to Buffy in the form of another sad smile. She placed her hand on his shoulder and smiled with him, her own pain evident through it.  
  
  
"She'd be very proud of you."  
  
  
Xander's smile grew a little more life into it. "And you're Mom would be proud of you."  
  
  
  
~~~~~~  
  
  
  
The afternoon spent at The Unemployment Office was just as painful to Buffy as Xander had said it would be. Dropping out of college didn't allow her much lee-way with Mrs. Greene. But at least she had attended and when Buffy let slip of her issue with taking over her mother's mortgage, Mrs. Greene became a little more complacent with her. She told Buffy about a couple of internships that could help her, and Buffy was considering them.  
  
  
She was also considering about what her sister had said about asking Xander to move in with them. Dawn had some valid points, she had to admit that to herself even if she would never admit to her sister. Still, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that asking him to move in to help pay for the mortgage wasn't right somehow.  
  
  
She needed to talk to someone. She needed to talk to Willow.  
  
  
Buffy decided to head there before her patrol that night.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~  
  
  
  
So here I am in front of the Magic Box about to spill my guts to Giles.  
  
  
I couldn't be any more terrified if the earth literally opened up at my feet.  
  
  
I push through the doors and walk inside. Buffy's just finished talking to Giles and looks about to head off for her patrol. Once she's gone it'll be just me and the G-Man. I called earlier to make sure Willow wasn't there. She's someone I'm going to have to deal with too, but first things first. I have to talk to Giles.  
  
  
I wish Buffy luck on her patrols and watch her head out. I would volunteer to go with her but she's going with Willow so I'm going to give them a wide berth.  
  
  
Real wide.  
  
  
After the door closes, Giles looks at me and gestures towards the table in the back that we reserve for discussion's about the latest Big Bad. He cleans his glasses which is a sure sign of a lecture. He's going to expect me to open up my feelings to him; something easier said then done. I'm not even sure what I feel. It's all jumbled up.  
  
  
One thing I'm sure of, though… I'm scared of myself.  
  
  
We sit down and I take a deep breath to compose myself. Well, actually it's an excuse to buy more time because I'm not sure where I want to start. Hmm, maybe I should go with that.  
  
  
"I'm really not sure where I should start."  
  
  
"Anywhere you'd like Xander. But I always find it easier to start at the beginning."  
  
  
I'm sure he found that deeply profound, but it only annoys me. But I don't want to piss him off so I keep my emotions in check. A rarity these days. Although I keep my cool around Buffy and Dawn, anyone else can set me off easy.  
  
  
"I get angry easier. Not that I was Mr. Calm-And-Collected before. Around the gang, I'm okay. But anyone else and hello mood swing. And… Part of me enjoys it."  
  
  
"You enjoy being mean to other people?"  
  
  
"It's not that… It's the release of everything. I feel…I feel like I've been holding back for years and this big build-up just looks for anything to let it out. I've been trying to go the covert way of dealing with that by going at it with Mr. Punching Bag over there, but… I'm not even sure if that's helping. It feels better for a little while. Then… It all comes back, again."  
  
  
"You don't like talking about your feelings then?"  
  
  
"That's a big 'no', Giles. I don't even think I would have talked to Buffy and Dawn if I didn't know that it makes THEM feel better when I do. They think I blame them for Anya."  
  
  
"Do you?"  
  
  
"Of course not. It was random. A one-in-million joke. The only one I can blame is myself and even I know that won't fly."  
  
  
"You blame yourself, then?"  
  
  
"Sometimes. Especially after the nightmares."  
  
  
"Nightmares?"  
  
  
"Yeah. Sometimes I see it happen again. Y'know when she died in my arms. Other times I dream she's alive or in a coffin. Once I dreamt that I was getting married, only I couldn't see who it was under the vale. After the preacher says, 'You may know kiss the bride.' I lift it and…" Tears begin to flow down my cheeks… "And it's Anya, but… she's a rotting corpse and there's worms and maggots crawling on her face and her skin's all 'eaten-up'…" I try to take a deep breath but it hitches because I'm crying. "Sometimes though… The dreams are good. It's happy memories where everything worked out fine and she's with me and I forget that she's gone… But then I wake up and I reach for her… then it all hits me allover again."  
  
  
Giles is crying too, now. I wonder when he started. He hands me a tissue and I attempt to clean myself off a bit.  
  
  
"Coupla 'manly' men, huh?" Good old humor: my fallback.  
  
  
We just sit there awhile in silence. It's not really uncomfortable. I think he knows what I want to say. I just need more time. I gotta let this soak in. He understands that.  
  
  
After a couple of minutes, he speaks. "I've noticed the tension between you and Willow."  
  
  
Oh, goody! Now I can talk about that! "Yeah. I think watching me kill Ben… Well, it scared the hell outta her."  
  
  
"That's rather obvious. How did that make you feel?"  
  
  
"Killing Ben?" He nodded. "I don't know. It was like this realization that if I didn't, Glory would come back and more people would die. Even if she wouldn't be after Dawn the world in general would still be in danger. Ben was like a ticking time bomb. Eventually, he was gonna die. Death is scary to someone who's used to being immortal. If she couldn't go back to her dimension where she'd be immortal again, she'd probably wanna end the world anyway. Like a little kid who breaks a toy because they can't have it… In my heart I knew that he had to die. I can't begin to tell you how much that idea scares me." I look him directly in the eyes. "How can your heart tell you to kill, Giles?"  
  
  
"…Sometimes a black-and-white solution is required for a situation with a lot of gray."  
  
  
"But that don't make it any easier, does it?"  
  
  
He looks to the floor. "No… No it doesn't."  
  
  
******To*Be*Continued******  
  
  
  
I know I originally promised some Willow action and plot but this part was so draining that I had to post it right away. I will, however, write it as soon as I get some sleep. That pesky writer's block is dead and the next chapter should be up real soon. I promise. I already know where to start it.  
  
I just… need… sleep… Zzzzzzzzzzzzz  
  
-- (crying) I don't understand how this all happens. How we go through this. I mean, I knew her, and then she's, (sniffling) there's just a body, and I don't understand why she just can't get back in it and not be dead anymore. It's stupid. It's mortal and stupid. (still teary) And, and Xander's crying and not talking, and, and I was having fruit punch, and I thought, well, Joyce will never have any more fruit punch ever, and she'll never have eggs, or yawn or brush her hair, not ever, and no one will explain to me why. --   
  
Emma Caulfield as Anya in "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" (The Body)  



	6. Bunnies Are Bad Omens

This chapter was every bit the doozy I knew it was going to be. But so far I'm real proud of it. Lemme know what you think.  
  
  
In my haste to post last time I forgot to mention MCG (Mean Chris Grump) While he's never actually posted a review he has read the story and allowed me to bounce ideas off him via e-mail. And hey Chris. Where's Back Lash II? I've been waiting for it, man. There you go. Hop to it. Chop chop.  
  
  
By the way, I'll do another big Thank You in another two or three chapters.  
  
  
Thanks everyone for allowing me my character building stuff. After this chapter the action will balance with the character building, I promise. Even a patient guy like me needs to shoot stuff.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
I walk down the stairs knowing fully well the significance of this place. This is the basement of the Magic Box. This is where we keep a lot of the artifacts collected during our adventures in slaying. In here is the rod which split me into my strong and weak sides, the broken remains of Spike's Sex-Bot, the bazooka which blew up the Judge (packaged in a non-descript crate to avoid suspicion) and a whole slew of gadgets and mystical whatzits. It's sort of our own private little Cave of Wonders.  
  
  
Also, this is the place where I proposed to Anya. This is the last place where we made love. The last time I really talked to her and let her know just how much she meant to me, was here. Maybe I should feel weird about coming to this place but strangely I don't. Truth is, I really like this place. A lot of nostalgia runs through here. Memories don't scare me, because they're pieces of the past.  
  
  
It's the future that's got me worried.  
  
  
In the future, I have to deal with Willow. In the future, Buffy and Dawn might lose their home. In the future, I'm going to be alone… My friends will move on with people they love, while, I'll still be alone.  
  
  
That's why I don't mind being here and why I hate going to my apartment. This place represents the past, where I can look on fondly. My apartment represented a home; what could have been and, now, what never will be.  
  
  
As I walk around I stumble upon a white stuffed bunny. It freaks me out for a second because I know what this is. This was the bunny that scared Anya. I remember…  
  
  
She said, "No, no, it's an omen. It's a higher power, trying to tell me through bunnies that we're all gonna die. Oh god."  
  
  
I think about that for a second. Maybe it was an omen.  
  
  
And if I had never had that omen I never would have had my chance to propose to her before she died. That's enough to allow me a small smile.  
  
  
"I miss you, baby."  
  
  
I decide to take the bunny with me. It doesn't seem to belong here somehow. I mean honestly… How in the hell did a stuffed bunny end up with this stuff, anyway?  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
When one hears that someone is on "patrol," many images may come to mind. Perhaps soldiers marching cartoonishly in front of a gate counting their footfalls in cadence. Or maybe even a security guard in a poncho keeping silent vigil over a protected area. One does not, however, normally imagine a trio of girls walking around a graveyard chatting away quite loudly, unless they were a Scooby.  
  
  
Which these three were.  
  
  
"Cordelia actually thought that Harmony was gay?"  
  
  
"Yep. She thought that the whole sneaking into her bedroom and talking about 'urges' meant she wanted to jump Cordelia's bones." The three girls laughed. "She was actually very relieved that Harmony was a Vampire and not- and I'm quoting here- a 'great big lesbo'."  
  
  
Both Tara's and Buffy's eyes widened before they burst out laughing again.  
  
  
"So you're telling me that she was more freaked at the idea of Harmony being gay then being a vampire?" Buffy's voice was incredulous. Willow nodded. "Did you tell her about you and Tara?"  
  
  
"Uh-huh. I could actually hear her squirming on the other end because of the 'lesbo' comment. If I hadn't been concerned for her safety I probably would have been laughing." More giggling filled the air.  
  
  
Considering the dark atmosphere, one wouldn't expect such cheery tones. But most people don't do this nightly as a part of their everyday existence. It's truly remarkable what a human being can become accustomed to.  
  
  
Like, one, Xander Harris, who at the sound of his friends laughing tracked down their location. He had been looking for them, or more specifically Willow. He was tired of having someone he cared about be so deeply afraid of him. Today he had taken many steps in his recovery of losing Anya. This was another. Everything so far had been slow. Baby steps.  
  
  
Xander was tired of baby steps. He wanted forgiveness in the worst way and this night he wanted to know what exactly it was going to take.  
  
  
After a few moments of comfortable silence, Buffy decided to confront her friend. "Willow?"  
  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
  
"I want to ask you something serious." Xander froze. Instinct told him something important was going to occur and it would be best if he laid low. He prayed that his curse of incoordination wouldn't come to call in the next few moments.  
  
  
"It's about Xander."  
  
  
For once, his flawed sense, jokingly dubbed instinct, came out on top. It would have been a relief, if not for the nagging need to know what was going to be said. He wasn't just anxious or nervous. Xander was truly scared. His grip on the stuffed bunny increased.  
  
  
"Oh."  
  
  
That's it! "Oh?!?" Xander mentally begged Willow to be more specific.  
  
  
Tara, who had been by her girlfriend, noticed the importance of this discussion. And suddenly felt uncomfortable. She decided to leave before she would be asked to; despite the fact that she knew just how deeply her girlfriend might crave her proximity in the next few moments. "Umm, maybe I should leave you two to talk."  
  
  
The begging of her to stay did not come from Willow but, surprisingly, Buffy.. "No Tara. You should stay. I value your opinion, too." Tara looked momentarily shocked. She hadn't expected to be asked to stay. Usually people would just not want to have her around at all; especially, at the parts where something important was going to be said.  
  
  
It warmed her heart that Buffy asked her to stay for her and not because of Willow. She still hadn't gotten used to being wanted or respected.  
  
  
"Oh. Sure. Whatever you need, Buffy." She couldn't repress the silly little smile that began to form right away, but she did when she felt Willow's shaky fingers interlace with hers. Instantly, she remembered that she was here for support, so her face, once again, regained her normal features.  
  
  
Xander listened in, hoping that it would give him some background into where he stood with his oldest friend.  
  
  
"Willow, are you still uncomfortable around Xander?"  
  
  
Once again, Xander squeezed the bunny.  
  
  
Willow's face looked pensive for a second. Then her mouth opened a few times in silent babble, before she could finally vocalize her feelings. "It's not like I'm scared of Xander."  
  
  
His heart did a somersault…  
  
  
"I mean, okay I'm a little scared of Xander."  
  
  
…And then landed flat on its ass. She was scared of him. She admitted it.  
  
  
"It's just… I don't think I know him anymore. I mean I still know him. It's not like I'm suddenly, 'Xander Who?,' but it's more like he's changed. And I'm not sure I like the change. Or if I'm just confused by the change. Or maybe I changed and he hasn't. But he's still Xander and yet he's not like the Xander I knew. Or… something." She looked to her feet and appeared to be completely flustered.  
  
  
"Trust me. He's the same Xander. He's just grieving. A-and…That can change a person. I mean I should know." Buffy was quiet for a second.  
  
  
"Buffy, I know that grieving can be hard on someone but… Xander… When he did those things that night, he… It's like he wasn't there. You remember how he was when he mentioned killing Ben, before we took on Glory… He hated himself for even thinking it."  
  
  
"Watching someone die in your arms is powerful, Willow."  
  
  
"Buffy, I know what it's like when something hurts someone you love… Do you remember what happened after Glory hurt Tara?" Willow look over to her lover sadly. "I was scared. A-And angry. And I wanted Glory to pay. But I showed emotion. When Xander killed Ben. There was nothing in his eyes. He just went to him like he was going to help him…" Willow's eyes widened in fear at remembering what happened next. "He calmly talked to him and then… God… Buffy, I will never forget that noise. Ben was… he was…His neck was bent… wrong. Like Miss Calander." She shuddered. "These years fighting on the Hell Mouth, I've seen some horrible things. Some done by people I've trusted. But… I never thought that Xander." Tears began to flow down her eyes. "It feels wrong, okay. People can be bad. People can be just as bad as Demons but not Xander. Xander is safe, and loving. But he's not… Oh God."  
  
  
Willow began crying and she was comforted by Tara, who pulled her into an embrace. Buffy came up to Willow and hugged her too. They were so busy comforting each other that they didn't hear the very person they had been talking about run away.  
  
  
Xander never looked back. He ran. His oldest friend had just compared him to a demon. A monster. A soulless creature.  
  
  
What was there left for him other then heartbreak?  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Susanna left the shop feeling more then a little depressed. She was well aware before starting her little quest to find a compassionate person to give her a job where she could watch over her baby was probably going to be fruitless. But that certainly didn't mean it didn't hurt when her plan completely blew up in her face. Well, actually, her plan hadn't completely blown up in her face. There were still plenty of businesses she hadn't checked yet and she still had those numbers to call on Monday.  
  
  
She still had options. Just not many.  
  
  
It was dark and the Ice Cream Parlor where she was staying was preparing to close for the night. All around here the stagnant smell of old disinfectant mixed curiously with ice cream and the cold humid air to create a very artificial smell that drove her steadily insane. It gave off a very alien feeling to the business that made her uncomfortable.  
  
  
Sooner or later she would have to leave and go back to that dingy motel room and her dignity demanded that she leave on her own accord rather then be told to. Small things like that were all she had left of the proud woman she once was. The proud woman her Jerry helped create.  
  
  
She could still remember one conversation in particular…  
  
  
  
~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~  
  
  
  
"Jerry, I'm no good at this stuff. People are going to expect me to be… Well I don't know. But I'm pretty sure, whatever it is, I don't have it."  
  
  
Her fiancée smiled into their bedroom mirror and struggled with his necktie. "They're not going to expect anything from you, Anna, other then you."  
  
  
"But they're your friends. Scratch that. Co-workers and Employers. As in people who decide your future. I'm going to mess up. And it's going to hurt you. I don't wanna hurt you."  
  
  
Jerry's eyebrows lifted in amusement for a moment while his smile lowered to a slight grin. "You're right. What the hell was I thinking, wanting to show you off to my bosses? I mean, they're just going to take one look at you. Be insanely jealous because of how utterly beautiful you are. And then they're going to fire me because, while they make more money then me, they don't get to sleep in the same bed with you every night. My career is doomed! Damn your nymph-like beauty!"  
  
  
Anna threw one of their pillows at her still-smirking fiancée. "This isn't funny!" The grin on her face that she fought tooth and nail to keep from surfacing betrayed that logic, though. "I don't think I can be good enough." Her tone was somber and her posture insecure. It's moments like these that Jerry can't help but fall in love with her allover again.  
  
  
He stopped fiddling with his tie and sat himself down with his wife-to-be. "Anna." No response. "Anna, listen to me." His left hand moved to grip her shoulder while his right cupped her chin so lovingly that it made Anna's heart ache. She couldn't help but wonder what she had ever done to deserve him.  
  
  
Jerry's words were soft and from the heart. "You are amazing. I mean that in every possible way. You have a beautiful heart. A stunning intelligence and grasp of the world around you. You're witty. Funny. And did I mention unbelievably beautiful? Those people are human. Just like me. They're going to fall head-over-heels in love with you because no human being in their right mind wouldn't. If anything, they're going to ask me if you have a sister and if she's available."  
  
  
Anna smiled and Jerry returned it. "Thank You."  
  
  
"You're welcome." Anna never physically said what she was thankful for. There simply was no need.  
  
  
Her hands moved to his still-undone necktie. She playfully pretended as if she was moving around the ends and tying it. "Y'know? If I had any idea how to tie one of these it would be incredibly romantic."  
  
  
"Not to mention real helpful… I knew I should have bought the damn clip-on."  
  
  
Anna pulled the ends and forced Jerry closer to her for a kiss. "Shut-up, wouldya? I'm trying to be romantic, here."  
  
  
They were going to be a little late for his bosses' birthday party.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~End~Flashback~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Susanna got up, cleaned the ice cream off of Melissa's shirt and face and walked out. A part of her felt like she was returning to the motel room in defeat. But the other side of her knew that she was far from that.  
  
  
Jerry died so that Melissa could have a life. Come hell or high water, Susanna would give it to her no matter what the cost.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Xander sat in a local bar called "The Gold Miner." It supposedly harkened back to the days when Sunnydale was a prosperous mining community; which, explained the extensive network of caves in the area. It wasn't as upbeat as the Bronze or as rowdy as the bars closer to campus. The Miner was a somber place. The kind of bar someone goes to simply to get drunk and forget about their problems between shots of vodka or tequila.  
  
  
It was as good a place as any for Xander to sulk in.  
  
  
Originally he had wanted to go back to the Magic Box for a little one-on-one with Mr. Punching Bag, but with Giles more then likely there he didn't want to have to go into some long explanation. His opening up to Giles now meant that he couldn't just vent his frustrations like he used to without having to sit down and dredge up the painful emotions again to explain them to him.  
  
  
By, supposedly, moving on he had lost something he had counted on to vent daily pain and angst. It made him feel all the more miserable and he needed something to take the edge off. Something to make him feel numb because it seemed like a drastically better solution then simply allowing the pain to feel so raw.  
  
  
Xander wasn't a big drinker. Memories of his father being so abusive had instilled in him a primal fear of becoming an alcoholic. Whenever he was at parties he would rarely drink and when he did he never allowed himself to get anything but buzzed. He had never ever come close to getting drunk for fear of what it would do to him. He had already had two beers and was about to order a third, when he changed his mind…  
  
  
And asked for something stronger.  
  
  
"Hey! Uhh, Beer… bringing… guy?!?" A bald man with a dirty goatee turned his head toward Xander.  
  
  
"You callin' me?"  
  
  
"Yeah. Bring me something stronger. What kind of rum you got?" The bartender listed about five different rums from all around the world. Xander had no earthly idea what the difference was, having never drunken rum outside of eggnog before. "Bring me that last one. Bah-something."  
  
  
"Bacardi?"  
  
  
"Yeah. That'll do."  
  
  
"Been awhile since somebody asked for Puerto Rican rum around here. Mostly people want beer or tequila."  
  
  
Having little interest in the bar's liquor history, Xander waved him off and told him to bring him the rum. He laid his hands down on his arms and tried to let the Alcohol burn through his system, hoping for the numbness to settle in soon.  
  
  
He was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder and a slurred voice. "Andy ith that you?" Xander's head lifted to regard the voice. In front of him stood a man on shaky legs. His hair was long and unkempt and his face looked to have not been shaven for quite sometime. His eyes were red and waxed over with probably more then a substantial amount of alcohol. "Andyss? You look diffwent, man. Loth th-thome weight or thome'em'?"  
  
  
Xander's eyes widened in realization as he realized why this man had called him Andy.  
  
  
Andy was his father's name.  
  
  
"No. I uhh,…" Xander was interrupted by the bartender who brought him the first shot of rum.  
  
  
"Here you go, Pal. This stuff I'll do you good. I love it with juice or soda myself."  
  
  
Xander didn't hear a word of it. He simply stared at the drunk in front of him and said, "How much do I owe ya?" The bartender looked at him confused for a second and then tallied up the cost, while the drunk looked on, even more confused then the bartender. Xander paid what he owed and then left the bar.  
  
  
He left the rum untouched.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Susanna was walking swiftly back to her motel room. She had never been afraid of the dark as a kid. Ever since she saw the original Dracula she was fascinated with the creatures of the night and the music they made. In the most literal sense. She loved the sounds of crickets chirping, or frogs croaking. It was very relaxing. Jerry had even bought her a CD, with night sounds on it, that she used to sleep.  
  
  
That was before she suddenly became responsible for a little girl. Before she lost Jerry. Before she believed in monsters, human and otherwise.  
  
  
In her hurry to reach the relative safety of her motel room, she didn't realize she was being stalked. Stalked not only by a monster but by the one she feared most.  
  
  
The one that killed Jerry.  
  
  
"How's it going beautiful?"  
  
  
That voice, so familiar, one that haunted her when she slept, one she had once looked to for support; but now, belonged to a monster.  
  
  
She didn't turn around. She didn't scream or panic. She simply ran. She ran for the life of her baby.  
  
  
To stay was to die.  
  
  
Unfortunately for her, this monster couldn't be outrun. It had always been bigger, stronger and faster then her. But now that it had changed, it was the same evil in a more powerful wrapper.  
  
  
The Monster appeared in front of her in a flash. His smile was mocking, his eyes were feral and his posture was threatening.  
  
  
"Now why'd you do that, baby?" He moved in closer to her. Taking small, slow, lingering steps. The swaying of his body as he moved reminded her of a pendulum. And this pendulum counted the seconds to her doom. "Well aren't you going to say something, baby?"  
  
  
The ability to vocalize thought through vibrations in her throat had long been forgotten by Susanna. His voice grew more ominous and impatient. "Aren't you?!?"  
  
  
A small gasp was her only reply. She started shaking and clutched her child.  
  
  
He relaxed visually for a second; his own outburst, seemingly, forgotten by him. "Y'know, baby, you shouldn't have run from me. Shouldn't have made me look for you. Especially when it's to find you in the arms of some Dick. Pregnant with his bastard child."  
  
  
Susanna couldn't say anything, though she desperately wanted to. Instead, she backed away.  
  
  
His fingers wagged side to side. "Nuh-uh-uh. You run and it'll only hurt more."  
  
  
She stopped.  
  
  
"Good girl," he said deceptively soothing. "I thought we should give 'us' another chance. I know things have been… difficult, in the past. But that's behind us. If you say you're sorry, I'll take you back and we can be together again. Like we were before the problems, baby. Do you remember that…" His voice quickened with anger and contempt. "When you cared about my needs! Before you became such a slut! Before you ran away and told the police all those lies about me! Huh?!? Do you remember that, you bitch!?!"  
  
  
His eyebrows disappeared as his forehead came together menacingly. His once piercing blue eyes became a predatory yellow.  
  
  
That was the face that haunted Susanna.  
  
  
"We're meant to be together, Suzy, whether you realize it or not!"  
  
  
At that she snapped. "MY. NAME. IS. NOT. SUZY!!"  
  
  
"You heard the lady." The monster's head turned just in time to see a tire iron collide with the side of his skull. "She don't like being called, Suzy."  
  
  
Xander smacked him in the chest and he flew back a few feet and hit the pavement. He yelled to Susanna, "This way!" He grabbed her wrist just as the monster yelled.  
  
  
"What the fuck you waiting for?!? Kill him!"  
  
  
A fist crashed into Xander's stomach and his universe exploded in pain.  
  
  
  
******To*Be*Continued******  
  
  
  
Well what do you know? My first chapter that ends with a cliffhanger. Won't be my last. I promise.  
  
  
Down the road, I'll reveal the name of "The Monster" and his past relationship with Susanna. Though you probably picked up on the none too subtle clues by now, I'll bet. Plus, you're probably wondering how he tracked her down so fast. That'll be explained too.  
  
  
Also, more background for our protagonists. Some action. Some drama. And some tough choices. All coming up.  
  
  
  
  
-- Now might be a good time for something heroic.--   
  
James Marsters as Spike in "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" (Spiral)  



	7. The Harbingers of Change

TITLE: "The Beauty of Morning Light- (6/?)"  
  
AUTHOR: Wicked Raygun  
  
RATING: Just to be safe I'm gonna say an R. But it's no worse then the other two.  
  
SPOILERS: Up to season 5 episode "The Gift" Also it's two predecessors.  
  
DISTRIBUTION: This story and the rest of its parts can be found at fanfiction.net or at least it could be if they weren't suffering from the plague. As for anybody else…No problem. Just let me know where it goes so I can stop by and say "Hello."  
  
DISCLAIMOR: I refuse to believe that anyone here would be unbalanced enough to think I own this stuff in any way. But… to anyone out there who does own a piece of the Buffster and/or her friends and enemies, I mean you no harm. I'm just borrowing your toys for a while to put on a little puppet show. I promise to bring them back in near-mint condition. Even Spike.  
  
FEEDBACK: Everyone needs a little love. It makes the world go around and writers post faster.  
  
DEDICATION: To all of the kind souls who have been kind enough to send me feed back, especially Banquo, and Danii (a.k.a DeBrabant). Oh and Danii, I did what you recommended and took my muses or in my case demons to dinner. A great time was had by all, but I'm afraid that poor fellow at the Sizzler will never walk the same again. I would also like to thank Lori Bush who has been extremely supportive about my writing. I have to borrow a line from Xander and say, "You're my hero." I hope one day I'll be half the writer you are. A special mention to Jai L. The first BX story I ever read was "…But Not Forgotten" by you. It hooked me into BX forever after that. You deserve any and all thanks or blame for me writing today. Also, thanks for not pulling a Rayden and striking me with Lightning bolts. To the great and powerful Oz(mandayus). I told you before that you're work inspires me. I meant it. Michael. Buddy I have simply given up on trying to review everything you post. It just keeps coming… Thanks for that. Lots of non-gay type love (Not that there's anything wrong with that) goes out to Silent Bob R, who really made me feel like I have a place here when he included me in his crazy, insane BX'er fics. He also said that I could have Faith in the next story so I am very, VERY happy.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a sequel to "Nothing Short of Divine Intervention" which in turn is a sequel to "To Live is the greatest Pain" So please read them if you haven't done so already so you won't be lost. This will be a chaptered story because I have decided on an even bigger canvas. I will be switching between Third and First person views. Whenever it's in First Person you are seeing the whedonverse through the wonderful new technology known as XanderVision (Patent Pending). Also please take note that I do not write. My demons do and I will not be held responsible. You have been warned.  
  
  
  
*************************  
The Harbingers of Change  
*************************  
  
  
  
Xander nearly fell to his knees. Keeping his wits about him, he barely managed to defend another punch to his gut with the tire iron. Thankfully, his attacker backed away for a moment and Xander got a good look at him. He was quite a bit shorter then him with brown hair and green eyes that were as cold as arctic snow. The sleeves of his gray shirt were rolled up and instead of the usual over-confident smirk, Xander saw caution.  
  
  
Right away Xander knew this wasn't a typical minion.  
  
  
Xander pulled back his right leg hoping for a better balance. He knew he was going to have to press any advantage he could. His tire iron clutched like a baseball bat, Xander looked for any other signs of danger that might hurt the woman with the baby or himself.  
  
  
Then Green Eyes burst into movement with a left sucker punch which clipped Xander's shoulder and distracted him long enough for the real attack: A right chop to his midsection, just above the hip. The blow drilled the top of his pelvis bone painfully. Xander stumbled and didn't even see the flying knee his opponent sent at him, which nearly doubled him over.  
  
  
Despite the above average skill of this vamp, Xander had fought these things for the past six years and knew a trick or two. Xander made as if he was backing away in fear and then lunged forward with the point of his weapon, aiming for the knee. The vampire yelped in pain but was still cognizant enough to drop an elbow onto Xander's back.  
  
  
"Damn! You stubborn bastard, you!" growled Green Eyes.  
  
  
Xander jumped to his right, barely avoiding another elbow and found himself in the ideal position to shatter his opponents ankle. He swung as hard as he could muster and was rewarded with a swoosh followed by a dull crunch and a feral scream of frustration, anger, and pain.  
  
  
Xander couldn't help his smile. Standing up, he saw the blur of movement that was this vamp's rapidly approaching fist. Rather then duck, he blocked with his tire iron using a full swing. It landed right above Green Eye's elbow. His arm shirked back in pain.  
  
  
Xander turned to yell at the young woman who still seemed to be in a haze watching the blonde vampire he'd hit with the tire iron in the beginning, "Move it if you don't wanna die Lady!" That seemed to click for this woman and she began to turn tail and run, when the blonde used his speed to catch up to her immediately, his fangs just poised above her neck and shoulder.  
  
  
"I thought I told you not to run, Suzy?"  
  
  
Xander saw none of this, however, as he was a little preoccupied with Green Eyes.  
  
  
"Back off, Sonny. You'll only get killed if you stay here." His tone was calm, collected and ominous.  
  
  
There was simply no way in hell this guy was just a minion.  
  
  
Rather then allow the further running of that train of thought, Xander threw his weapon end over end into his foe. It landed square in his chest then bounced off. Green Eyes looked down at the weapon very amused and didn't see Xander's right cross. The punch's momentum dropped him like a sack of potatoes. Xander would never have the strength to hurt a vampire with a punch but that didn't mean that the force of the blow wouldn't be able to physically move him.  
  
  
Xander turned to the woman with her attacker poised over her. He ran full speed and clothes-lined the blonde. The woman, who didn't like being called Suzy, turned to him with tears in her eyes. Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something but the seriousness of the situation wouldn't allow it.  
  
  
"Run now! Talk later!" Xander yelled.  
  
  
He led her by the shoulders and made his way for the car, all the while, shoving her along the way. Not the most well coordinated rescue but it would do in a pinch.  
  
  
He opened the passenger side of his car and she jumped in, still clutching her baby. Introductions would come later, now was the time to get the hell out of dodge.  
  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Willow hugged herself and allowed her friends words to run through her and assure her. She knew they were right, she would have to talk to Xander, and without doing so then nothing would be resolved. She would forever be left with this dull, empty, ache that had once been reserved for her oldest living friend, her childhood companion, and her one time love-interest.  
  
  
Nothing could ever be the same between them but that didn't mean she could give up on him now.  
  
  
"Buffy, I think asking Xander to move in with you guys would be a great idea. He's lost so much… I think he needs to have you and Dawn around to make him feel normal."  
  
  
Buffy looked at her best-friend questioningly. "Normal?"  
  
  
"Yeah. He feels at his best when he's protecting someone. And before you start with "I'm the slayer", I don't exactly mean physically. He just likes putting other people before him. It gives him- I don't know, a purpose, I think."  
  
  
"Come to think of it, he does spend a lot of time with Dawn, making sure she doesn't blame herself. And he does do his best to cheer her up."  
  
  
"I guess I still know Xander a little." Willow smiled sadly. "I need to talk to him, Buffy. I want my Xander back."  
  
  
Tara put a comforting arm on her shoulder. "You will, baby."  
  
  
After a few moments to push aside the angst, Willow spoke again. "So when are you going to ask him to move in officially?"  
  
  
Buffy looked pensive for a second. "I don't know. Tomorrow?" she asked her witch companions.  
  
  
"Good," Willow said. "Xander needs something to keep him out of trouble."  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
"You are in so much trouble, Greg." The blonde vampire looked defiantly at the short brown-haired annoyance that towered above him at the moment. An annoyance that could easily and giddily tear him to shreds.  
  
  
"Shut up Angus. I don't need this now."  
  
  
Angus closed his eyes, shook his head in disappointment and kicked Greg in the head.  
  
  
"Never disrespect me again, young one. I was terrorizing this world before your pappy was an itch in your grand pappy's crotch. You understand me." His demonic features took center stage in a way that would scare even the most dedicated slayer.  
  
  
Greg looked up toward Angus with his nose trickling blood. His vamp face was also on, but with the bleeding from his nose it made him look pathetic rather then menacing.  
  
  
"We warned you to stay away from that woman until we had a way of avoiding the Slayer and her cohorts. And instead, you rush out the first night here and search for her. And instead of following her stealthily like we've shown you, you frighten her and have possibly allowed her to escape to who-knows-where." Angus paused for a moment. "And if we have to follow her across the border, I swear, I will torture you with a butcher knife from here to the next millennium, Cold Cut."  
  
  
Greg knew that Angus was as good as his word and in fear said nothing to him.  
  
  
Angus brought the tire iron up to his face and looked at it a moment. Then he threw it with all his supernatural speed and strength into Greg's leg, causing it to stick out grotesquely.  
  
  
The sharp, grinding pain that shot up from his leg was brutal and his scream was full of agony.  
  
  
Ignoring the noise, Angus looked at his nails and said, offhandedly, "Our Master will do much worse, Cold Cut."  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Susanna was panicking. Greg was here. The monster that killed her husband, terrorized her and wanted her baby dead was here. How could she have found her and Melissa so quickly? She ran to the South Border rather then the North, knowing that the North was much easier to get to and had family she could turn to. Her carefully laid plans had turned to shit and now she was truly scared.  
  
  
The man next to her kept trying to say soothing things but it all filtered out as garbage to her. What could he do that she hadn't done already? Except maybe run faster.  
  
  
"Will you please snap out of it!"  
  
  
That brought her back to reality. "Shut Up! Shut Up! Would you please shut up! I'm having a nervous breakdown here. Do you mind?!?" The man with dark hair stared forward as if that reaction was exactly what he was looking for. Unfortunately, that reaction also caused the little bundle of innocence nestled atop her breasts to start crying. "Dammit, do you see what you've done?!?"  
  
  
Xander turned his head to the woman slightly, while still keeping his eyes on the road. He just now recognized her as the unpleasant woman from the alley. Figures that he would go through so much trouble to get her a place to stay and she ends up being the victim of a vamp attack.  
  
  
The raining shit forecast was still in effect for Xander Harris.  
  
  
Susanna kept cooing to her baby, in the hopes of calming her down. "Calm down, Baby. Mommy needs you to be quiet so she can think. I love you baby. Mommy's here. Mommy's here. Shuuuu"  
  
  
"What's her name?"  
  
  
Susanna seemed startled by the simple question. It took her a moment and some staring at Xander's head to finally say something. "Uh, her name's Melissa."  
  
  
"Very pretty name."  
  
  
"Uh, thank you, Mr…?"  
  
  
"Uh, Harris. But you can just call me Xander. Mister makes me feel uncomfortable."  
  
  
"Oh."  
  
  
Xander hoped that this simple conversation would calm her down a little. Someone who was hysterical just wasn't fun to be around. He knew that from experience. So to keep the conversation going Xander said, "So what's your name?"  
  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
  
"My name's Susanna."  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Greg limped into their newly acquired hideout: A penthouse suite at the Sunnydale Ramada. Abandoned warehouses were just so passé. So over. So "been done". Or at least that's what his new master believed.  
  
  
Master.  
  
  
Now there was a word that Greg never thought that he would ever have to use in reference to anybody. Coach. Boss. Chief. Officer. Possibly even Sir. But never Master. It was just so… counter-culture to his red-blooded American beliefs. Not that he was ever a scholar of the Constitution or it's effects on society. To be truthful, he always took that for granted and resented having to be forced to learn anything about it in school. But, one part that he always understood and believed in was that authority wasn't always right.  
  
  
So he spent his life defying any authority that wasn't his in any way that he could. Who was anyone to tell him how he could or couldn't live his life? They certainly didn't have to live it. If he wasn't in charge then he didn't want any part of it. At home he came in when he wanted or never at all. At school either his friends listened to him or they weren't allowed to be in his social circle anymore. In football, he was the quarterback calling all the shots and whoever fucked up or didn't listen to him could go back to playing pee-wee for all he cared.  
  
  
It was his way or the highway. Or at least it used to be.  
  
  
He had given this a lot of thought and had come to the conclusion that it was all Suzy's fault. It had to be. He had his life in complete control until she came and made him fall in love with her. She manipulated him and used him. She would never listen to him and after he had gone through the effort of showing her how much she meant to him by having sex with her she became a total slut.  
  
  
He never had proof, but he just knew that the little nympho was cheating on him. He would see her talking to guys everyday at school or at the mall. She would always make up some bullshit excuse. Either that person was just a friend or a customer or some other crap.  
  
  
Didn't she know that she belonged to him? That she was supposed to be loyal, loving and there for HIM?  
  
  
The lying bitch always took him for granted. But no more. He was going to get her back, and they would be together because that's how it was meant to be. And Greg had made sure that she realized it too. When she took off like the little bitch she was and left for Seattle he eventually found her. When she got married to the sniveling little dweeb, she showed him how weak he was by literally squeezing the life out of him. Now he was going to find her again and turn her. After she became like him, then she would realize that she had been wrong all this time. She was fighting the future every time she ran away.  
  
  
They would be together for the rest of eternity. It was just so beautifully poetic that it just had to be.  
  
  
He didn't care about his new Master's plans as long as he got his Suzy back. In fact this entire "family" was getting on his nerves with the way they were always telling him what to do. They always said it was for his own good, but Greg had heard the same song and dance from people his entire life. He wanted so badly to just say the hell with it and move on his own, but the fact is that this group had contacts and connections. And while he was sure he could find Suzy by himself, the simple fact was that they were more organized and could do anything he wanted to do quicker.  
  
  
So for now, he would use them the way people tried to use him his whole life. Unfortunately that involved being more obedient in the future.  
  
  
He could be a team player when he needed to be.  
  
  
But he wasn't going to be happy about it. That was for sure.  
  
  
As Greg moved passed one of the couches in the suite he couldn't help but notice the tangy, sweet smell of burning incense. That meant that Estella was around. An arrogant bitch if he ever did meet one, Estella was the authority on everything magical. She spoke to him about magic in the same way his teachers spoke about chemistry or biology: in an annoyed, condescending tone that seemed more meant to flaunt their own intelligence then teach you anything. Her British accent helped little in that regard, due to his natural American prejudice for the English as being stuffy and arrogant.  
  
  
As if on cue, she exited one of the rooms that she had apparently appropriated for her lab. She wore an amused grin as she spoke to Angus directly, purposely avoiding Greg, "I see you've found the little one, Angus. Did he cause any trouble?"  
  
  
Greg hated that "little one" remark. Standing at six feet, five inches and weighing in at two hundred ten pounds, he was easily the largest of all of them. He knew that she meant it to refer only to his age, but he also knew that she enjoyed how annoyed he got when she used it. He decided not to give the smug, little bitch the satisfaction this time and kept quiet.  
  
  
"I'm afraid our little "runt o' the litter" has started to chase the other puppies. This one bitch in particular he seems rightly fond of." Angus' Irish heritage showed up in his change of accent whenever he got angry and his voice had just a peppering of it now.  
  
  
Estella's eyes narrowed as she stared holes into Greg but spoke only to Angus. "If he ruined our plans then he'll be lucky if I ONLY skin his bits and leave them raw and floating in iodine.  
  
  
Greg's eyes held fear in them for a moment. He heard the others, including the Master, speak about her skills of torture with nothing but the utmost awe. The Master himself had called her an "artist". But his pride over rid his self-preservation instincts and he once again adopted his angry facial expressions. He would never allow a woman to get the better of him again.  
  
  
Angus smirked as he imagined Estella doing just that to him. "I'm not sure, Estella. I'm taking him to Rosario now. I didn't run into the Slayer, but I think I might have run into one of her allies."  
  
  
"I hope he lets me have fun with this one. I need a new toy; although, this one looks like he'll break easily, doesn't he Angus?"  
  
  
"He certainly is made of cheap material." Angus proceeded to kick Greg where the tire iron was ripped from his leg. Greg yelped and collapsed on the opposite knee trying to keep the weight off of the still sensitive area. He turned his head to glare at him. Angus immediately followed up with backhand slap. "Don't ye dare look at me like that, Cold Cut!"  
  
  
"Angus."  
  
  
Angus turned to see an oriental vampire sitting in a chair drinking blood from a glass. "What?"  
  
  
"Don't keep our Master waiting. He really wants to… speak with him."  
  
  
Angus smiled as he turned to Greg's fallen form. "What are you waiting for? An invitation? Go."  
  
  
Greg grunted as he stood up. He then walked to the room that his Master had taken while trying to hide his limp. He was seriously hating the fact that no one except Angus was talking to him. It was as if they didn't even want to acknowledge his existence.  
  
  
As he made his way into the room, Greg silently braced himself for what laid ahead. There was a reason why in a group of very powerful vampires that they called this one Master.  
  
  
And it wasn't because he had sired them; although, he had.  
  
  
"Hello Greg." His Master, was sitting on a chair facing the window and his back to him. He never turned around.  
  
  
"Master I-"  
  
  
His Master raised his hand, signaling him to be quiet. "I wasn't finished," he said calmly.  
  
  
"You disobeyed me Greg," he stated matter-of-factly. "I feel very hurt. I thought that we were learning about how to trust one another. I see now that I was wrong. You don't trust my judgment, my guidance, or my leadership. If you did, then you wouldn't have put us all in danger by leaving when I gave specific orders to lay low for tonight. Now, I am going to ask you what happened tonight and you are going to answer me. Understood?"  
  
  
"Yes."  
  
  
"Did you go out looking for your sweet Suzy?"  
  
  
"Yes."  
  
  
"Did you find her?"  
  
  
"Yes." Greg was beginning to dread this line of questioning. He wanted nothing more then to leave alive, pride be damned.  
  
  
"Now this is very important Greg. Did she see you?"  
  
  
Greg hesitated before answering, "Yes."  
  
  
"Oh, Greg. That was stupid."  
  
  
Quicker then thought, Greg was pinned by his throat to the wall, his toes dangling above the floor. The loud thump from his body being slammed echoed throughout the room. His neck was being squeezed so hard that he heard loud, wet snapping and cracking coming from it.  
  
  
If he were human, he would be dead already.  
  
  
Greg could feel his blood dripping onto his Master's hands. He felt as if his entire being was centered around the oppressive crushing of his throat. His Master said nothing as he squeezed tighter.  
  
  
"Ros- Rosaaarrrr," he squeaked out.  
  
  
"What is it, Greg?" His voice was still eerily calm.  
  
  
"Ca- Caann- Cann'tt Breeeathe!" Greg's eyes felt as if they were going to shoot out from the pressure being applied to his neck.  
  
  
Rosario rolled his eyes. "You're a vampire, you moron. You don't need to breathe. The only reason that you do is because you need air to speak."  
  
  
That thought was a sobering one to Greg. He was a vampire. He should fight back. His arms moved to Rosario's elbows, trying to leverage him away.  
  
  
Rosario laughed at the attempt of fighting back, as if he actually thought that he could win against him. The fool never did know how to be subtle and bide his time. He was always rash and impudent. Not for the first time, Rosario cursed the circumstances that necessitated his turning of the pathetic waste of blood he held in his hands. A lesser, more irrational master vampire would have already killed him for his disobedience this night, and, in fact, Rosario was tempted to do just that, but the fact of the matter was that in a town with the most feared Slayer of all time he would need this moron, for bait and fodder if nothing else.  
  
  
Still, Greg was trying to fight him and something like that just couldn't go unpunished. No need for any Alpha-male confusion in the ranks.  
  
  
He brought back his fist and proceeded to slam it over and over again into his abdomen and ribcage, causing a lot of pain but only enough damage that he could be healed by tomorrow night.  
  
  
A weapon with no use, was a useless weapon.  
  
  
Rosario let go of Greg and watched as he slid to the floor in a fashion that made him look like every bone in his body had been destroyed.  
  
  
Lovely thought.  
  
  
Greg never knew such pain, not even when he died and shed his human shell was the pain as exquisite as it was now. He was nothing here. A pawn in someone else's game. He couldn't even pretend to think that he would ever call the shots again.  
  
  
Suzy would pay for forcing him into this.  
  
  
"Chan," Rosario called, "would you mind taking Greg over to Estella, and give her my blessings to do whatever she wants with him as long as he'll still be able to fight tomorrow night. He might come in handy as a shield in case the Slayer decides to rain on our parade.  
  
  
Chan stood by the entrance looking on Greg's form in disgust. Rather then picked up Greg's pathetic carcass he motioned for Angus to do it and followed Rosario to the balcony. Once there, he asked, "But Master, wouldn't it be more beneficial to hunt for the girl now. She has a tendency to run away whenever he shows up at her doorstep.  
  
  
Rosario held a wine glass of blood that he had picked up from his chair and sniffed its contents gently, savoring its aroma. "This is La Boca del Infierno, Chan, or the Hellmouth for those of us less able to speak Spanish."  
  
  
"Yes. I remember." Rosario noted the slight hint of anger, in Chan's voice. No matter how much time passed he never seemed able to get over his hate of California, Rosario mused.  
  
  
"Well, the thing is, events don't tend to just happen here by coincidence. If she was drawn here, then that means something wants her here… To seek the Slayer's aid would be my personal guess."  
  
  
"It could just be a coincidence, Master."  
  
  
"First of all, Chan, stop calling me Master. The others are not around and you have been my equal for a very long time now."  
  
  
"I will never be your equal, Rosario. We both know that."  
  
  
With anyone else, Rosario would just assume that he was being manipulated in order to be put off guard. But not with Chan. He wasn't the type for such manipulations. At least not with him. Chan could have left this brood a long time ago, and Rosario would never have thought the lesser of him; in fact, he would have applauded him. But despite the many opportunities, Chan never swayed in his loyalty. Such loyalty was rare even among humans, but among their darker brethren, the vampires, it was valued over gold and diamonds. Normally fear and the sire bond were the only things that kept such a group together.  
  
  
Such bonds were fragile. As defenseless as a glass house with stones being thrown at it.  
  
  
Among the others, Chan was his subordinate. Here in private, he was his confidante and most trusted ally.  
  
  
"You sell yourself short, Chan. We both truly know that after this venture you will leave and begin your own family. And a powerful one it shall be." Rosario didn't have to be looking at Chan to sense the smile. As proud as he was of Angus and Estella, it was Chan who would be the true testament to his legacy. In his eyes, he was the only one to have surpassed him.  
  
  
"And anyway, you are forgetting our place in this universe. We are, quote, "The Bad Guys", unquote. God, Buddha, the Fates, the Forces of Good, the Powers That Be, or whatever the hell else you want to call the annoying people upstairs who are in charge of keeping the status quo, are going to throw everything in the books at us. That includes the Slayer. Make no mistake, Chan. This is endgame. Our last stand."  
  
  
"If you truly believe in that, then why are we here anyway. There's no point in going against such a foe, if the Gods themselves are behind them."  
  
  
"You are forgetting one other thing, Chan. Nothing, and I mean nothing is guaranteed. Prophecies are only possible outcomes, not absolute truths. We have obstacles of epic proportions in our future, to be sure, but we shall overcome. I have trained and taught all of you to not be limited by your darker natures and personal vendettas. We are prepared and shall do all that is necessary to win. It's time for a change and we shall be the harbingers of that change."  
  
  
Chan remained quiet. Rosario was perhaps the greatest vampire to ever walk this earth, and he considered him an equal. If this was supposed to be the grounds of their rebirth, then so be it.  
  
  
  
******To*Be*Continued******  
  
  
  
Well folks, what do you think. I have spent a lot of time in creating my villains. Welcome to the horrors of my mind.  
  
  
In other news, I plan on working on chapter 3 of "Where Do I Fit in Your Life?" next and I have the workings of a Batman Beyond novel that's been floating around my head ever since I saw the unedited version of "Return of the Joker"; although, I doubt I'll ever get to that soon. By the way, screw Luke Skywalker, The Joker was mark Hamill's greatest role EVER. May none argue with me.  
  
Back to story stuff… It all goes down hill from here on in, for the Xandman.  
  
  
Wicked Raygun  
  
  
  
--You think you know ... what you are ... what's to come. You haven't even begun.--  
  
Rudolph Martin as Dracula in "Buffy the Vampire Slayer"  



	8. Something Welcome, Something Needed

TITLE: The Beauty of Morning Light (7/?)  
  
AUTHOR: Wicked Raygun  
  
E-MAIL: wicked_raygun@yahoo.com  
  
SUMMARY: With his grief still eating away at him, Xander must find it in his heart to help someone.  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
SPOILERS: Up to season five's The Gift.  
  
DISCLAIMOR: I refuse to believe this is necessary. Does anyone here actually believe I own this stuff in any way? Well… To the folks who do own a piece of the Buffster and/or her friends and enemies, I mean you no harm. I'm simply borrowing your toys to put on a little puppet show. I promise to bring them all back in near-mint condition. Even Spike.  
  
FEEDBACK: Everyone needs a little love. It makes the world go round and writers post faster.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Man, it's been a long time, hasn't it? Well, I've updated finally. It's a little short, but then again chapters to this always have been.  
  
I would like to take this moment to thank Lori Bush, and Mims for their help in beta-ing this chapter. Their work and opinions have helped me a great deal. And to Lori, in particular, I would like to say the following: I appreciate you. You're help has allowed me to grow as a writer, and as a person. Your stories, your encouragement, your willingness to share moments of your life with me have been wonderful gifts. As of June 11th, I will have been posting stories for a year, and I can say, without a single doubt, that without you this year just wouldn't have been half as interesting.  
  
For those in the audience who would like to know more about this woman, her stories can be found here:  
  
http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=17172  
  
and here:  
  
http://tedjoxertimandmore.homestead.com/  
  
Also, for those who are interested in some of my other work, it can be found here:  
  
http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=79383  
  
Now, onto the show.  
  
  
  
************************************  
Something Welcome, Something Needed  
************************************  
  
  
  
Greg's eyes opened to find that the world of darkness, misery and pain that he just left was much preferable to the real one he was entering again. At least in the darkness he could forget that leer, that mocking, evil, blood chilling, smile that graced the face of his menace. The one who placed him in his shackles. The one who played with him using her "toys."  
  
  
Estella was a sight to behold. An alluring golden mane poured from her head, looking vibrant and alive- too alive, in fact, to be part of something that was so dead and evil. Her eyes were, fittingly, gray. Neither black nor white, they had, perhaps, at one time been a sea blue, but without that spark of life that came from a soul, their color had retreated into something more ambiguous and much less poetic and traditionally beautiful. Her frame appeared slender and fragile, another misconception. And one beings never made for long, once they crossed her.  
  
  
She reaped vengeance like a gardener. She cultivated it, with cruelty, cunning and a violent streak. And those were what she did before she lost her soul. If before she was a monster, now she was a nightmare made flesh.  
  
  
It was no surprise, really, that she especially loved torture. She dedicated herself as any other artisan would dedicate their self to a craft. She studied any and all works on the subject, both human and otherwise. Her personal library was brimming with works she had read over and over again, their pages worn like a favorite book of a young child. But she did not only put into practice the many things she had learned. No, she also innovated.  
  
  
She remembered reading in an old medical journal the process of bone setting in pre-modern times. It involved the resetting of a bone after it had been broken. Then a standard splint would be applied in hopes that the appendage would heal properly. Before the advent of modern anesthetics, it was common place for the patient to be given massive amounts of alcohol in an attempt to alleviate their suffering. But, of course, in order for this knowledge to be applicable to her craft, an ideal such as painlessness would have to be removed. And she found a way.  
  
  
Healing was her personal favorite part of torture now. Using a very old healing spell she had come across, she could reset any broken bones that occurred during her fun, something that happened to all of her practice dummies, and heal them… painfully. Newer magic spells used a form of enchanted anesthesia that would deaden the pain receptors in the nerve cells during the healing process. But without that, the resetting of a bone through magic caused excruciating pain. Magic was unforgiving in the way it brought bone and sinew back together.  
  
  
It was perfect. She would beat and maim her new toy until he or she was on the brink of death, and then she would repair them using her "healing" spells, causing even more agony. It was a beautifully endless cycle that continued until either she got bored or Master Rosario asked her to stop. Her record was one hundred and two days. And one day, she vowed to herself, she would exceed that.  
  
  
Estella always did love a challenge.  
  
  
She entered the last herb she needed into her mixing bowl. With a mash she began to grind them together, and as she did this she chanted. The incantations began to release the magical properties of her mixture. A red smoke emanated from her bowl, and she set it down on the floor. Delving into some of her old magical energy she forced the smoke to funnel. It rose in that fashion until it moved past her awaiting hands, which were facing each other palm-to-palm. Small purple bolts of energy flew from her palms and hit the red smoke, which now began to change into a light blue. The blue smoke entered into her hands, becoming one with them.  
  
  
Greg watched as Estella brought her hands closer and closer to his beaten and battered form. They glowed an eerie blue, and he knew that those hands were meant for him… and that they were going to bring suffering. Instinctively, he thrashed about, attempting to get away from his torturer. This caused a chuckle to escape from her lips. Estella thought he looked so pathetic trying to get away from her, while he was shackled to her play table.  
  
  
"Now, now, Greg, my dear. You were very naughty and deserved to be punished. Do you understand that?" the tone of her voice was so sweet, she almost sounded innocent.  
  
  
But Greg now knew better than to think that. He also knew better than to not answer her in the way she wanted to be answered. When Estella was like this, the best thing to do was to play along with her madness. So he nodded, despite the shooting pains coming from his neck.  
  
  
"Good, little doggy. Now, don't worry… I'm going to make it feel all better now."  
  
  
If it weren't for the sound dampening spell Estella had placed around her room, the sounds of wet pops and snaps intermingled with Greg's screaming would have been heard all over the hotel.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
"We're here."  
  
  
The words had come softly, almost reverently. Wherever they were now, it was apparently a place of some importance to the man that saved her life. Susanna looked up from staring intently at her baby to take note of where he had driven her. It was a store, and a sign had the words "Magic Box" written on it. She frowned a little. Although she didn't have any actual expectations, she certainly felt as if she should feel let down.  
  
  
With a flick of the keys, Xander turned off the ignition. He turned his head to her and said, "Come on," before he exited the car. With no other choice available, she did the same, all the while feeling wary of the dark street they were on. Paying particular attention to all the shadowy areas, she followed him. He used another key to open the door and Susanna startled a little at the sound of the jingling bell.  
  
  
  
Almost immediately, Xander began to call out, "Giles! Giles! Hey, English Guy!"  
  
  
Susanna watched from the doorway as her savior began speaking loudly and searching the store. She would have said something about the yelling waking the baby, but at the moment she was far too preoccupied with other things. Namely, Greg, the man who had stolen any chance of happiness she might have had.  
  
  
The nightmare had found her again… And she just felt so tired.  
  
  
"I'm here, Xander," a male voice with an English accent said with a note of exasperation to it. The voice was followed by a middle aged man, entering from some back room. "And please do refrain from calling me English Guy."  
  
  
"Would you have preferred Chap?"  
  
  
As the two strangers began to banter, Susanna, hesitantly, began to make her way toward them.  
  
  
Her eyes darted from left to right, noting the layout, design, furnishings and trinkets of the place. She began to sense something about her new surroundings.  
  
  
It was an odd mix of practical and absurd. Labels and shelves dedicated to supplies to be used for magic, all ordered logically. The novelty of it all would have been amusing if it weren't for the great state of disarray that she found it in.  
  
  
The place looked as if it were only tended to occasionally. Dust had settled all over the store, the lamps being particularly blaring examples of this as their bulbs illuminated the cobwebs gathered upon the shades. Books were spread everywhere, haphazardly thrown about the store, seemingly abandoned once their purpose was achieved. Chairs were left out far from the tables they were around, no one having bothered to push them in. It didn't feel chaotic to Susanna; merely abandoned. It appeared that an event had transpired here, something important, something great, and something sudden; and with the coming of that event, life had been halted, the decaying presence of the passage of time given the freedom to revel here.  
  
  
It might have been a wondrous place once. Susanna couldn't be sure of that, of course, but something about it exhibited a feeling of old warmth. Like the last burning embers of a once roaring fire, or the body-heated impression left on a pillow from a departed lover. It was as recognizable as the sun to someone like her: This was the aftermath of a tragedy. Something had shined brightly here, only to be snuffed out, making the world seem all the more colder and darker in its wake.  
  
  
Misery wasn't just some abstract idea; it was a very real and tangible thing. It had a weight and depth that left impressions on a person, an object or a place, such as this one. As she walked past a see-through counter with odd looking herbs, weeds, and crystals scattered on the various glass shelves and with an old fashioned looking cash register placed atop, she couldn't help but contemplate how very out of place misery seemed in a place like this. It was, for a lack of a better way to put it in her own head, tacky. The kind of place one might visit for a little Halloween mischief and fun.  
  
  
It certainly wasn't what she had envisioned as a stop on a mission to save her daughter.  
  
  
But was she perhaps reading too much into the actions of the stranger that saved her? Now that was not a comforting thought.  
  
  
She stared at the back of the dark-haired man in front of her suspiciously. How many times had she walked into traps like these, now? She didn't even want to count. And what did she really know about this individual? His name, or what he said was his name. Surely, not enough to trust him yet.  
  
  
Certainly not with the life of her daughter, her one and only real priority.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
The three friends had been walking quietly since the end of their patrol. The only action that night had been a single vampire who mistook them for easy prey. Willow had a hard time keeping a straight face during the encounter, especially when the vampire had been staked and asked Buffy who she was.  
  
  
Buffy had merely shrugged and asked, "Do you really think that matters now?" The look on his face as his body decomposed into dust was actually annoyance.  
  
  
The silence afterward was broken by Tara who suggested getting some coffee. Buffy and Willow laughed and Tara joined in soon after. It was a warm moment brought about by the realization of the oddity of their lives. They had just met with and destroyed what was to most of the world a creature of legend. A deadly and dangerous being, who, to any other person in the world, would have posed a terrifying threat.  
  
  
And after that, the only thing that could be said was, "I want coffee. You guys want coffee?"  
  
  
Moments like that were meant to be shared, and everyone felt the absence of the one other person who would have enjoyed it as much as they had. For a moment, there had been joy, but it had been a bittersweet victory.  
  
  
With their patrol for the night completed there was little else to do save report back to Giles at the Magic Box. The walk was slow, but comfortable so there was no felt need to hurry. And for the moment each was content to be alone with their own thoughts.  
  
  
A wall had been broken that night for Willow, and she was now ready to forgive Xander and accept him back into her heart. What she had seen him do had scared her, deeply. It had also proven to her how little she really did know of her once best friend. But now, she was willing to accept it, to accept him.  
  
  
In her heart, she knew that she probably wouldn't have done any different had it been Tara who died that night instead of Anya. And she also knew that in the dark time after she would need his love and support.  
  
  
A small weight had been lifted, but the over-all dread remained. She felt that Xander would have every right to be angry with her for abandoning him. There was nothing she could do about that now. The only thing she could do was apologize, and be there for him when things got rough.  
  
  
It was going to be a difficult, long, and frustrating process, to be sure, but one she was willing to go through. Her only hope was that Xander would be willing to try also.  
  
  
She smiled. It was strained, but honest, and her lover made note of it.  
  
  
Tara knew enough about her Willow to know she was trying to be optimistic for the future. She had missed seeing that part of her lover, and was thankful to see her strong spirit start to return. She then prayed that Xander would be forgiving and that all would end well. She didn't think it too unthinkable an idea. After all, he had tried to breach the gap between them on several occasions, although he had never pressed too hard.  
  
  
Tara knew fear when she saw it, and she had seen that same emotion reflected in each of their eyes, and it broke her heart. Willow was her lover, her confidant and best friend, while Xander had become a surrogate brother, well meaning and warm, possibly a bit overprotective, but charming nonetheless. Besides, she had noticed, he acted that way about everyone he cared about. So she knew that she had a place in his heart as well, and that brought a feeling of belonging and stability that she had not felt with her actual family since the death of her mother.  
  
  
She realized then that she wanted them to make up not only for Willow's peace of mind, but for herself, as well. She missed Xander.  
  
  
Buffy, for her part, just wanted the chance to move on and be happy with her family; and Xander along with the rest of her friends were as much a part of that as Dawn. She had tried to be strong for everyone lately. It was, she felt, her burden and duty as a friend. But she still couldn't help but hope for tomorrow to be easier then today, for the guilt of not saving her mother and then Anya to ease away, for her family to be united again, and for Xander to stop waking up in the middle of the night screaming.  
  
  
Buffy felt at that moment, more than any other time in her life, that despite all the loss, failure and tragedy, she had earned a right to live. And her heart wanted to share that with the ones she loved.  
  
  
She would miss Riley. She would miss Anya. And she would miss her mother. But it was time to find a life with the people who were still here with her.  
  
  
They may have lived dangerous and remarkable lives, but it was the simpler things they wanted; and, despite all the recent tragedy, these three women felt something welcome and needed.  
  
  
Hope.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Angus rapped on the door and waited. A moment later, the hotel door opened, revealing the ravishing beauty that was Estella. Ravishing and, if the dilation in her pupils were any indication, ready to ravish something herself, and Angus couldn't help but grin as he mentally pictured her target for that.  
  
  
Estella knew why Angus was grinning, and lustily licked her lips to tease him. "Now, my dear, sweet Angus, you should know better than to disturb me when I'm having fun," she said sweetly as her hand played with the door frame sensually, her finger nails audibly scraping against the wood.  
  
  
She always got like this after her games.  
  
  
His eyes traveled down and back up her body slowly and deliberately in a leer. He then met her eyes again. "Well, you know me, always one to watch… a professional at work." His grin widened as he closed the distance between them a little more, but it then faltered a little as he saw Greg chained to the wall, making a sound that was something between a whimper and a sob. "We should get rid of Cold Cut, over there. He'll blow my concentration," he said evenly.  
  
  
Estella shrugged, as she spoke in the same sexy pitch, "And we can't have that, can we? After all, blowing would be my job."  
  
  
Greg was then unceremoniously unlocked from his chains and thrown into the common room of their suite. He would have been quite content to stay where he had landed, but looked up anyway when two boots came into his view. His eyes traveled the length of Chan's body to see him smirking and shaking his head amusedly.  
  
  
After a while, Chan spoke. "Next time, Greg, listen to your masters, and Rosario, in particular. We have each lived longer then any of your grand relatives."  
  
  
Greg shook his head from the floor obediently, far too tired for pride or dignity.  
  
  
"Good. There's some blood in the mini fridge. Drink up, then rest. We're going to be very busy tomorrow evening." Chan then swept away, not bothering to see whether or not Greg would or could respond.  
  
  
Chan smiled as he made his way back to Rosario. When he found him on the terrace he was reading his Bible.  
  
  
"That book again, my master?" he asked light-heartedly.  
  
  
Rosario looked up at his child and smiled. "It's a very interesting read. Lots of good advice. Besides, I am a man of God." He turned his attention back to his reading, then asked, "Is Angus setting up our supplies for tomorrow's activities?"  
  
  
"No, my Master."  
  
  
Rosario looked up again, his eyebrow raised in a questioning gesture.  
  
  
"It seems that Angus and Estella are somewhat indisposed for the moment. You know how she gets."  
  
  
"Yes, I do," he answered truthfully before shaking his head and letting out a short chuckle. "Kids."  
  
  
  
~~~~~~***~~~~~~  
  
  
  
"Xander, who," Giles gestured toward Susanna, "is this?"  
  
  
"That would be Susanna, and I think she needs our help."  
  
  
Xander watched as Giles' eyes widened and then his hands went up in a gesture of surrender. "I wouldn't be so sure about that," Giles said deadpan.  
  
  
Realizing that his life had just become a lot more complicated, Xander slowly turned around to find a gun being pointed at them.  
  
  
  
******To*Be*Continued******  
  
  
  
Well, hello, everyone. Just wanted to say that I hope you enjoyed this short little thing. I'll get to work on the next chapter a whole lot sooner then last time. School, as well as my interest in writing other fics, have sidelined me heavily since I last posted this. I had considered abandoning it completely, but the support of this story and general outcry over my lack of posting, (there really does seem to be a lot of you out there) have shamed me into action. And now, with the practice I've gained in writing other projects, I truly think that I now have the skills needed to write this story the way I had always envisioned it coming out.  
  
  
Although, I am somewhat sad to say that I've decided to abandon Xander's POV's, or Xandervision as I liked to call it.  
  
  
Anyways, enjoy this and know that a new chapter to WDIFIYL is not too far behind.  
  
  
Oh… You want a preview of the next chapter? Well, it's good to want things. ;)  
  
  
Ray  
  
  
PS- One last little nugget of cool. As of Tuesday, June 11th 2002, I will have been posting fanfic for exactly one year. Yay for me.  
  
  
  
--Excuse me? Who, at a crucial moment, distracted the lead demon by allowing her to pummel him about the head?--  
  
Nicholas Brendan as Xander in "Buffy The Vampire Slayer"  
  
  
--I understand a man's inhumanity to man. Adults are violent amorphous blobs that careen around the planet. Occasionally they brush up against another individual and hey, their life must end.--   
  
Dennis Miller on "Dennis Miller Live" 


	9. Pain, Panic and Paranoia

TITLE: The Beauty of Morning Light (8/?)  
  
AUTHOR: Wicked Raygun  
  
E-MAIL: wicked_raygun@yahoo.com  
  
SUMMARY: With his grief still eating away at him, Xander must find it in his heart to help someone.  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
SPOILERS: Up to season five's The Gift.  
  
DISCLAIMOR: I refuse to believe this is necessary. Does anyone here actually believe I own this stuff in any way? Well… To the folks who do own a piece of the Buffster and/or her friends and enemies, I mean you no harm. I'm simply borrowing your toys to put on a little puppet show. I promise to bring them all back in near-mint condition. Even Spike.  
  
FEEDBACK: Everyone needs a little love. It makes the world go round and writers post faster.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's that time again, kids! Feedback Roll Call Time! Jamiearn, DeBrabant aka Danii, Gee, Xanderluv, Eojt, Bolo, Inscriffany, Amelia, Britt, Kristen, Onion Girl, Chocoholic, StarGoddess Vicky, Calen Hawk, Dora, aka Jane McCartney, Zekkers, Drake Roberts, Mutant, Skelron,, Banquo, Varthan, VegaKeep, Scott Timms, Franger, Fulgour, Ozmandayus, Tim Creecy, Bill Haden, RobClark, Lakrids, Donnie Darko, who set aside three hours to read this puppy beginning to end, John, aka Grey Wizard, Sherif Al-Mayarati, Shadow Quark, Mims, Michael, aka Mutant, Jonathan, aka White Werewolf, Jai L, Furious George, Wayne "Keep the Faith" Wieland, aka Eckles, Tommy Chen, C-man, Julio C, Igor the Great and Mary Jane.  
  
I tried to track down everyone I could, but it's very likely I missed a few people, especially, if they've only ever posted me a review over at the BX Fanfic Archive. Tracking down reviews there is a royal pain in the ass. So, if I've missed you, please send me a quick e-mail and I'll be sure to include you.  
  
One last thank you goes to the Beta Goddess, Lori Bush. Wonderful woman. Don't know what I'd do without her.  
  
For those in the audience who would like to know more about this woman, her stories can be found here:  
  
http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=17172  
  
and here:  
  
http://tedjoxertimandmore.homestead.com/  
  
Also, for those who are interested in some of my other work, it can be found here:  
  
http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=79383  
  
Now, onto the show.  
  
  
  
*************************  
Pain, Panic and Paranoia  
*************************  
  
  
  
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Xander said with no small amount of annoyance evident in his voice.  
  
  
Susanna had to admit to herself that Xander's non-reaction wasn't what she had expected, but, with the type of unpredictable existence that she had been living lately, it wasn't the kind of thing to affect her deeply either. So other then a slight tone of impatience in her voice, she didn't show any emotion. "Follow your friend's example, and put your hands in the air."  
  
  
Xander noted the practiced ease with which she said that. He also noted that her hand didn't shake, so she was apparently comfortable with the Beretta she held. The safety was off, also, so she knew how to use the weapon beyond whatever she had seen on TV. She had been doing this for a long time, he reasoned.  
  
  
And what a disturbing realization that was, when he actually considered the sight of a woman holding an instrument of death in one hand and a gift of life in the other. This was a terrified and desperate woman.  
  
  
"You should have something smaller," he said calmly and without moving his arms up.  
  
  
For a moment, she actually seemed amused. "Oh, don't tell me your one of those hunting nuts who thinks they're special because they read a couple issues of 'Guns and Ammo.' Put your hands in the air," she said with clenched teeth.  
  
  
"Well, actually, I dislike guns with a fiery passion that I just don't think I could fully express to you in words. I'm just offering a helpful observation. I mean, after all…"  
  
  
At that moment Xander felt Giles' hand on his shoulder. "Xander," he said exasperated, "please do listen to the young woman holding the firearm."  
  
  
Xander turned partly to him, but kept Susanna within the frame of his peripheral vision. "Giles, she's doing this all wrong, and, unless I'm mistaken, she's going to have to do this again soon. The very least I can do is offer her a few pointers so that she won't get herself and her baby…" He turned slightly towards Susanna and, without stopping in the flow of his sentence, said, "Melissa, right?" Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned back to Giles. "Like I was saying, so that she won't get herself and her baby, Melissa, killed." Then turning to fully face Susanna and look her in the eye, he finished with, "I mean, look at her. She's obviously going to keep running, and she obviously has no idea what it is she's really up against."  
  
  
The passion in his eyes as he casually dismissed her act disturbed her in ways that she thought she had long been desensitized to by the constant bombardment of tragedy and misery in her life.  
  
  
Now Xander noticed her fingers trembling. "Do you?" he asked, actually directing his statements to her for the first time since he started his rant.  
  
  
"You don't know anything about me." Her voice was steady despite her trembling.  
  
  
"You're right. I don't. And I don't care either."  
  
  
"Then why are you trying to help me?!?" she almost screamed.  
  
  
"Because Melissa, the innocent child you hold in your arms, deserves better then to grow up on the run, never making friends, never having a home, constantly in fear that some bogeyman is going to jump out from the shadows and rip her throat out."  
  
  
She didn't want to listen to this. After all she had been through, the violence, the fear, the hate, she just couldn't begin to fathom that he would want to help her. The world, as she knew it, simply wasn't that kind. This man was trying to fool her. There was simply no other explanation.  
  
  
Besides, he was wrong; she knew what she was dealing with: unstoppable monsters. Monsters that were strong. Monsters that were fast. Monsters that could take an entire clip of bullets and still get back up. The only thing one could do was run… Run as far and as fast as one could.  
  
  
This man couldn't help her. No one could.  
  
  
Noticing the conflict in her eyes, and realizing that what he had said had left her speechless for the time being, he moved a step closer.  
  
  
Susanna was conflicted, but she wasn't stupid. Her trembling stopped immediately as she saw him move towards her, her strong persona taking control of her actions, that part of herself that enabled her to do anything to protect her daughter.  
  
  
Even kill.  
  
  
"Move any closer and I will kill you."  
  
  
The words escaped from her mouth cold and lifeless, and they touched a place of fear in Giles, who had been watching this strange exchange with something between morbid fascination and outright fear for Xander's life. But what truly tipped the scale to fear's favor was watching how Xander not only wasn't visually affected by her very convincing threat but that he kept moving forward.  
  
  
Giles prayed that Xander knew what he was doing.  
  
  
"Didn't you hear me, Asshole? I said, I'd kill you." Now, anger peppered the steely resolve in her voice.  
  
  
To placate her a little Xander, finally, moved his hands into the air, but he still moved toward her. One step at a time, closer and closer. Each movement an act of defiance against Susanna's tough exterior.  
  
  
"I don't think you're going to kill me, Susanna," he said slowly.  
  
  
"Don't think I can? Huh?!?" Her words suddenly sounded insane. It was a brief moment and only lasted long enough to give Xander and Giles a glimpse of this woman's instability, but then her voice quieted down again. "Well, guess again. I'm a mother. It's my right and responsibility to protect my child at any cost."  
  
  
"Oh, I think you can kill me… and would, if you thought I was a real threat. But I think you know that my friends can help you."  
  
  
Susanna took a step backward, her inherent animalistic instinct to flee gripping her consciousness in a desperate attempt to not listen to the lies coming from this man's mouth. And they were lies she told herself.  
  
  
They had to be.  
  
  
Or were they?  
  
  
"Y-You don't know what's after me… They'll kill you. A-And I-I can't let that happen. Too many people are… are already dead. Y-You want to help me? Then give me the keys to your car and any money you have and d-don't call the police."  
  
  
Xander kept eye contact, spoke softly, and made no sudden, threatening movements save for his carefully placing one foot forward at a time.  
  
  
"I won't do that. The money won't last and eventually you'll be alone again. But here, I- We can help you. My friends are powerful people who know exactly what it is that's after you."  
  
  
One step closer.  
  
  
"We've dealt with them before."  
  
  
And another.  
  
  
This was too much for Susanna. Her hand went slack and she began shaking with the first throes of a crying fit. It was all just too damn much. Years of living her life being like this just began to catch up with her. And the burden was stifling.  
  
  
Xander hurriedly closed the last of the distance between them and reached for the weapon. As his fingers touched the Beretta, Susanna, terrified and startled by the sudden contact, screamed and pulled the trigger.  
  
  
And then, for Xander, there was only pain.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~  
  
  
  
"Are you sure this is necessary, Jerry?" Anna's trepidation was quite visible in the way she held the Beretta. Her arms were fully extended and shaking. While her left hand gripped over her right like a clamp, the knuckles on either hand white and lacking for blood. The distance and placement of each of her legs was awkward.  
  
  
A hard breeze could have knocked her over, and, despite the seriousness of the situation, Jerry couldn't help but grin a little and pray that his Anna would always remain that innocent.  
  
  
And then he remembered how much innocence she had lost already.  
  
  
"Yes, Anna. You need to learn how to use a gun."  
  
  
She turned to him. "But you already know."  
  
  
"Yes. Yes, I do. But the police are still looking for Greg and I can't be with you twenty four hours a day. And…" He looked down for a moment. "And you need to learn to protect your baby," he finished somberly.  
  
  
Anna loved this man enough to know when he was uncomfortable. She placed one hand on his shoulder, smiled at him lovingly, and said with no hesitation, "Our baby."  
  
  
He looked up into her eyes and smiled himself. He nodded slowly to show he understood. Then, after clearing his throat to cover the sob that was lodged there and threatening to escape, he moved Anna into position to fire the gun.  
  
  
"Okay… Ready, Anna?"  
  
  
"Ready."  
  
  
"Now, slowly squeeze the trigger and…"  
  
  
  
~~~~~~End*Flashback~~~~~~  
  
  
  
The pain had been sudden and unexpected, making it all the more unbearable.  
  
  
Xander yelled and stumbled backward, but was at least able to stop himself from falling. He looked into Susanna's eyes and spoke, with his teeth clenched. "Let… go… of the… gun!"  
  
  
Despite being in a near state of shock, she complied. Then Xander felt Giles behind him.  
  
  
"Dear, Lord! Are you all right?!?"  
  
  
"Yeah… Yeah, I'm… fine," he managed through gritted teeth. "My thumb's definitely seen better days… though!" His last comment escaped from his mouth as more of a yelp of pain then a word.  
  
  
"You're damn lucky you know that!" Giles chastised.  
  
  
"Funny. I don't feel all that… lucky."  
  
  
"I mean it, Xander. If you hadn't lodged your thumb in there and stopped the hammer you could have been killed, man!"  
  
  
"Yeah… that was my thought, too!" Xander did his best to hold back an unmanly tear that was starting to edge away from his eye. "Jesus! Troll breaks my hand, fine. But hurt my thumb, and ow!"  
  
  
Xander made his way to a chair and sat down. He then eased back the hammer, removed his thumb, eased the hammer back into place, hit the clasp to drop the loaded clip, and pulled back the slide to empty the bullet in the chamber.  
  
  
He stared at the various pieces of the weapon for a moment, before he looked back up to Susanna, and said, "Lady, you have got to be the most difficult person I have EVER tried to help."  
  
  
She stood there, her emotions simply having destroyed any semblance of control that she had. If she could comprehend what had just happened, she certainly didn't show it.  
  
  
Giles stared at her for a moment before deciding that Xander should be his immediate concern, since he doubted that Susanna would be hurting anyone any time soon.  
  
  
"Is your finger broken?"  
  
  
Xander pressed his thumb into his hand feeling a jolting sore, but nothing outstanding. He then further tested it by bending it. His sigh of relief was genuine and involuntary as he realized that although the thumb would swell and ache, it hadn't broken.  
  
  
"No, it's fine. Well, fine if you count shooting pain coming from my finger as fine. I won't exactly be challenging Tara to another thumb wrestling match anytime soon, but at least it's not broken." He winced visibly and inwardly groaned as he realized that he wouldn't be able to take out any of his frustrations on the punching bag either.  
  
  
As if he needed another support taken away from him.  
  
  
Xander's eyes looked up ready to cast accusing glares on Susanna, but that emotion quickly died down once he saw her. She looked… dead. Xander really couldn't describe it as anything else. She just stood there, overwhelmed, holding her child and looking ready to collapse into a heap on the floor, a mere puddle of a woman.  
  
  
He spoke trying to knock her out of her catatonia, "Susanna? Susanna, listen it's okay. My friend and I aren't mad."  
  
  
Apparently that did the trick, because she looked over to him, giving him her full attention for the first time, and said, "You should be. I-I almost killed you."  
  
  
"And yet funnily enough you didn't," he joked, in serious need to lighten the mood. Given the general luck he'd been having all night, it wasn't a large surprise that his attempt failed. Not a laugh, a snicker, or even a mild grin. In fact, she didn't say anything and looked almost as catatonic as before.  
  
  
Starting to grow a little worried for the welfare of the child in her arms, Xander asked her to sit down. Strangely enough, she complied without a word of disagreement. After that, Xander proceeded in making a formal introduction of Giles and Susanna to each other, something which had been interrupted by the evening's attempted felony.  
  
  
Throughout the exchange, Xander's hands started shaking. He didn't make too much of it at first other then noting it as being a slight irritant. He decided to ignore it for the time being.  
  
  
"Do you understand what it is that's after you, Susanna?"  
  
  
She looked to Xander, still feeling shy about what she had attempted to do. She slowly shook her head. "They're not human. That's all I know."  
  
  
Xander nodded.  
  
  
"Well you're right about that. Now, what I'm going to tell you is going to sound pretty… Well, stupid, but trust me it's real. First off, I'm assuming you used to know that guy I pulled off of you…" It was meant as much as a question as a statement. Susanna nodded. "Well, your friend…"  
  
  
"He's not my friend," she said sternly.  
  
  
"Okay… Uh, that guy… He's been turned into a vampire."  
  
  
Susanna blinked several times and looked to both Xander and Giles in turn. She then absentmindedly bounced Melissa on her lap, and said seriously, "Well, I guess that would explain why I've never seen them in the day."  
  
  
Both Xander and Giles were stunned into silence at her casual acceptance of Vampires, but before either could say anything Melissa started wailing.  
  
  
Susanna just looked kind of sheepish at the two open-mouthed men before her and asked, "Uh, I don't suppose you have a bathroom or something where I could, uh…"  
  
  
"Yes!" Giles said nervously. "Yes, of course. Uh, uh, right, right this way. I'll show you, r-right away."  
  
  
Susanna couldn't help but grin at his reaction. She then followed him into the back area she had seen him entering from earlier.  
  
  
That left Xander alone. Alone and shaking. He looked down at his hands and they were trembling viciously now. As he was examining them, a drop of moisture fell onto one and it was at that time that he realized that he was sweating, something he thought rather shocking given he couldn't remember ever feeling colder in his life. A chilled shudder from his spine signaled to him that it was in fact his entire body that was shaking.  
  
  
Immediately he stood up, only the movement was too sudden and his chair fell onto the floor. But he didn't care. He made his way towards the entrance of the basement, his shakes making him stumble all the way. He just needed to be somewhere safe, somewhere calm, and something in the back of his mind remembered the peace of the basement.  
  
  
He just had to get there. He needed to get there. His mind couldn't process anything else anymore. Higher thinking was not something he was capable of.  
  
  
Xander fell more than walked down the steps, eventually crashing his hip painfully into the banister at the bottom. He moved his shaking hands to rub his arms, hoping to bring warmth to himself, but they offered little relief. Violently, he pushed back the sweat from his brow and rubbed it into his hair. He was so cold.  
  
  
An image of Anya's hair slicked back with blood flashed in his mind's eye.  
  
  
Xander cried out as he threw himself into the wall, his legs feeling weaker and weaker. Unconsciously his right hand had been banging against the wall pathetically, until the briefest moment of clarity allowed him to see it. The fingers on his hand curled, as if gripping something.  
  
  
Immediately, his mind projected over-laid images of the revolver there. He shook as his fingers began to squeeze the trigger.  
  
  
This was wrong. This was so wrong.  
  
  
His legs failed him little by little until he had slid down the wall, becoming this pathetic, hunching mass of shivering, sweating flesh.  
  
  
Some of his sweat made its way into his mouth. The salty tang triggered a different type of memory and he could taste it again.  
  
  
Anya's blood on her lips as he kissed her goodbye.  
  
  
Why was this happening to him? He made a mental plea with God to stop this… whatever it was.  
  
  
God.  
  
  
The words escaped from his lips unbidden. "God, you let me make this shot and you can have anything you want from me."  
  
  
His trigger finger clenched.  
  
  
He could hear the shot. Dear God, he could hear the shot.  
  
  
This was not real. This didn't exist.  
  
  
Mentally, he collapsed and his body wasn't far behind. His every muscle just gave out and went limp; his hand fell to the floor. There was nothing but tears, sweat, fear, and pain.  
  
  
So much pain. Too much pain.  
  
  
  
******To*Be*Continued******  
  
  
  
Well, folks, what do you think? Thought about making this longer, but I decided to just split it instead. Chapter Nine will come out… Well, soon I hope. Thanks so much for sticking with me, throughout this adventure. I know I've been promising action, but… Well, I'll get to it eventually, I'm sure.  
  
  
Ray  
  
  
--I don't know. At first it's just a place, then you start to make memories, and ... then you're like, that's where Spike slept, and there, that's where Anya and I drowned the separvo demon. Oh! and, and right there, that's where I got my heart all ripped out. I really hate this place.--  
  
Nicholas Brendan as Xander, in Buffy the Vampire Slayer "The Replacement"  
  
  
--Face it, we all get off on power. Even if we only have a little of it. You think the clerk at the DMV doesn't enjoy looking at that snaking line and thinking, "I gotta be here eight hours? Well then, you gotta be here eight hours."--  
  
Dennis Miller on Dennis Miller Live 


End file.
